


When You Touch Me I Die (Just A Little Inside)

by wildenettles



Series: When You Touch Me I Die [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, No-one knows who Mysterion is, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Secret Identity, Self-Indulgent, Some characters may be OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-08-17 09:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildenettles/pseuds/wildenettles
Summary: "Yet I still couldn’t bring up a few things around him. Namely, my parents and how they would fight nearly all the time and my huge, dumb crush on Kenny McCormick."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been replaying the Fractured But Whole again and decided to write some fic for my new kid Robert "Bobbie" Grey and Kenny McCormick because I ship the trashiest shit, didn't you know? 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments below. Comments keep me motivated to write! :) 
> 
> The title comes from the Lady Gaga song Venus.

I still don’t know why I chose to come out to Mr. Mackey of all people. I hadn’t even said anything to my parents yet, big shock there, and at the time I still wasn’t entirely sure if I was gay, I was ten for fuck’s sake. But, still, it happened, and his advice was to befriend Tweek and Craig because they were both gay too and could help me with this stuff better than he could. “They’d be able to answer your questions about being a homo better than I could, Robert,” he’d said.

At the time I thought he was just assuming all gay guys would get along with each other just because they’re gay because I couldn’t see how either Tweek or Craig would want to be my friend. I don’t think we had anything in common back then, aside from secretly being superheroes and liking dick, and besides, the two of them were having a lover’s spat and didn’t want anything to do with each other. Until I got them both to go to couples counseling, which ended with them making up and getting back together. If only the same trick could have worked on my parents.

After that, the guys did talk to me more often and invited me to hang out with them after school, sometimes during school too. Tweek and I ended up taking art together in high school, painting was supposed to help him relax or something, and he usually had a seat saved next to him. He didn’t mind that I didn’t talk much at first. He’d said once that he actually enjoyed the silence, that it was less pressure on him to think of something to talk about. He worried that he’d only sound either lame or batshit insane in front of me, but I told him, “No, I like listening to you. You can say whatever to me, I don’t mind.”

He ended up taking me up on that, sometimes venting his frustrations to me about work, his parents, school, superhero stuff, Craig (Whenever they had a particularly bad fight, which were few and far between) and whatever else was bothering him that day. It was him I told first that I wasn’t trying to be cool or mysterious by being quiet, just super shy and anxious, and didn’t know how to explain that to people, especially when they’d already made up their minds about me. Tweek had laughed, said he understood and shared some muffins from his parents’ coffee shop. It was wonderfully easy to talk to Tweak, and yet I still couldn’t bring up a few things around him. Namely, my parents and how they would fight nearly all the time and my huge, dumb crush on Kenny McCormick.

Craig, on the other hand, had been a bit more difficult to be around, at first. It was hard to tell whether he actually liked me, hated me or was completely disinterested altogether, and was only hanging out with me because Tweek asked him to. Still, he let me sit next to him sometimes and showed me videos and pictures of Stripe on his phone. I remember telling him I’d love to have a guinea pig of my own but my dad hated rodents and Craig just narrowed his eyes and said, “Your dad’s a monster.”

But it was Craig I ended up telling first, almost a full seven years later, when he’d invited me over for a sleepover at his house along with Tweek, Token, and Clyde on a Friday night where none of us had patrol duties. The others were downstairs in the new rec room, waiting for us to bring down the popcorn and drinks, when I blurted out, “I’m gay.”

Craig quirked an eyebrow up at me, then went back to pulling sodas from the fridge. “I know.”

I blinked, heat rushing to my face. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean you clearly have a hard-on for Kenny. Even Cartman noticed.” Craig turned and must have seen the way my face fell because he quickly added, “The fat fucker’s not going to say anything though. I don’t know what Kyle and Stan did but they’ve got something on Cartman that made the dickwad shut up quick.”

So, Kyle and Stan knew too? Great. Apparently, I needed to change my superhero name from Rook to Captain Obvious, or maybe Mister Lovesick. My stomach twisted into knots and I felt the sudden urge to go home, climb under my sheets and pretend that I didn’t exist. A bit of an overreaction but the brain knows what it wants. “That’s not going to last.”

“Yeah. But I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Everyone seemed really, weirdly, happy when Tweek and I got together so no-one’s going to give you too much shit if you decide to come out. And if anyone does Tweek will fucking go for their throats. You’ve seen him when anyone tried to hurt me. He’s lethal when he wants to be.”

I nodded, remembering when Wonder Tweek hadn’t even hesitated before punching in some thug’s teeth for hitting Super Craig with a baseball bat during our attack on a drug smuggling operation. Tweek had been so quick about it too, one second he was kneeling beside me, healing a stab wound in my leg, the next he was on top of the man and absolutely whaling into him with his fists. Both Super Craig and Mysterion had to pull him off. The thug was barely conscious when the police finally came to arrest him.

Back at HQ, Craig bandaged up Tweek’s hands, his knuckles had split open from how hard he was hitting the guy, and whispered gentle words that I couldn’t make out. But they made Tweek smile and press their foreheads together. Mysterion and I were at the other end of the room, nursing our own injuries. He had me roll up my pants, which had been difficult to do when my blood was making it stick to my skin, then prop my leg up on his lap so he could finish what Tweek started, which was cleaning the cut on my leg. It was a long gash, made from a combat knife one of the thugs had carried in his boot. Mysterion made me knock back painkillers and said I’d been lucky, while the cut was deep no important arteries or bone had been hit, so it’d heal easily enough. I forced myself to stare up at the ceiling and grit my teeth while Mysterion finally got to stitching the wound closed.

“You’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would,” Mysterion said and he almost sounded impressed.

“Pegged me for the crying type?” I asked.

He shook his head. “More like the swearing and shouting and ready to kick my ass type.”

Mysterion worked surprisingly fast and efficiently and I’d wanted to ask how often he’d had to do this himself, then thought better of it. When all was done he bandaged my leg up but didn’t move it from his lap, instead, he just left it there.

“How’re you, ah, going to explain that to your parents?” Tweek asked.

“Fell off my bike?” I shrugged. Honestly, they wouldn’t be all that surprised. I hurt myself doing a lot of stupid shit as a kid.

Tweek frowned. “Look, I know we’re friends and everything, and friends, ack, friends help each other out…” I already knew where this was going so I tensed up in my chair, “… But if you ever throw yourself between me and a bad guy like that again I swear to God I will actually strangle you!”

“Calm down, Tweek,” Craig said. “He only got a little cut on his leg.”

“It could have been worse! Agh, I don’t want to think about it. But you,” Tweek pointed at me, his eyes narrowing, “Never pull that shit again. And you,” he glared at Craig now, “Be more careful. You could have had your head smashed in!”

“But I didn’t.”

“Still!”

They argued like that for well over five minutes until finally Tweek gave up with an exasperated sigh and said they should go home. After the couple had left I’d leaned over to Mysterion, still high on both the adrenaline from taking out an entire drug cartel in one night and from the strong painkillers, and said, “I can’t tell who’s scarier now, you or Wonder Tweek.”

Mysterion snickered, and it was the first time I’d ever seen him laugh or even smile. He was a mystery to all of us in Freedom Pals. No-one knew his real name or what he looked like underneath the hood and mask. If anyone asked personal questions he deflected them, usually with some snide remark or two. Nearly everyone on the team thought that he was kind of a prick, but nowhere near as bad as the Coon, which would take a considerate amount of effort to even achieve. “Wonder Tweek,” Mysterion had said, “It’s definitely Wonder Tweek.”

The sound of the microwave beeping shot me out of my thoughts. I took the bowl Craig offered me and went about pouring the freshly popped popcorn into it. A few pieces were burned but it was nothing like the charcoal disaster we first started out with. Craig watched me from the corner, his arms folded over his chest and chin slightly jutting out. He had a rather pointed face, the kind you normally see on elven characters in any generic fantasy game or movie, with sharp cheekbones and heavy-lidded eyes that suited his apathetic personality.

“So…” Craig ran a hand through his short, dark hair, “Kenny, huh?”

I nodded again, not seeing the point in trying to lie to Craig. He had a way of seeing right through your bullshit and calling you out on it. “Yeah. Kenny.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised. Almost everybody has gotten a crush on Kenny in some way or another. It’s like a fucking right of passage.”

“You confessing something, Tucker?” I huffed out a laugh.

He smirked. “I actually did like him for a while. But it was before I realized I was gay so I just thought I admired him or some shit like that.”

“Didn’t you also used to like a guy called Thomas?” Something to that effect had been brought up during a game of truth or dare at someone’s party.

“Yeah. I guess I just have a thing for blond guys. So, sorry, Bobbie, you’ll never be my type unless you bleach.”

“Shame,” I snorted as Craig piled the popcorn bowl and the sodas onto a tray to make it easier to carry downstairs. “What…” I shuffled my weight from one foot to the other, already knowing what I was about to ask was incredibly fucking stupid, but so far Craig had been pretty cool about everything so maybe he wouldn’t rip on me too bad. “…Do you think Kenny’s type is?”

Craig shrugged. “Don’t even know if he’s gay. Or bi, or whatever, it’s not really any of my business.” He straightened up then and fixed me with a hard stare. “But he’s not that much of a dickhead that he’d stop talking to you because of you crushing on him. At most he’d just say no and that’d be that. So quit moping over him and just ask him out or something.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Craig.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You know what I mean. You’re a good friend.”

“Tweek’s better at this stuff than I am. But whatever.” Craig ducked his head but I caught the smallest smile tugging at his mouth. “C’mon, they’re waiting on us.”

 

* * *

 

It was during the horror movie that my phone buzzed in my hoodie pocket. Tweek jolted beside me, startling me into nearly dropping my phone while the others laughed and a man’s head was cut off on screen.

“Why the fuck is your phone so loud?” Tweek said.

“Because I’m deaf. Leave me be,” I replied, typing in my password to bring up the home screen, expecting to see a text from my parents saying goodnight, but instead it was a message from Mysterion.

_[Mysterion]: Human Kite’s hurt. Toolshed had to take him back to HQ._

That made my chest clench.

_[Rook]: How bad is it?_

_[Mysterion]: He’ll be fine. Coon slashed him by accident. Don’t want to patrol with the fuckhead alone. Think you can come out?_

I glanced between my phone and the guys. This was the first time Craig had ever invited me over to his house and I didn’t want to seem like a huge dick, barging into his home, eating his food and then fucking off, but I didn’t want to leave Mysterion alone with the Coon either. I wouldn’t wish that on even my worst enemy. Besides, I still owed him for before.

_[Rook]: Be there in ten._

_[Mysterion]: You’re a fucking godsend. I’ll be on main street._

“Hey, Craig,” I said, shoving my phone back into my pocket, “Kyle got hurt in a scuffle. Nothing major, but he’s out of commission for the night so someone’s got to fill in for him. I said I’d do it. I’m sorry – “

“The fuck are you sorry for?” Craig said, “Go on. I’ll leave the back door unlocked for you to sneak in later unless you want to go home afterward?”

“I’ll probably be back,” I said. “If your parents ask – “

“We’ll tell them you puked or something and had to go home,” Token said. “Tell Kyle we said hi.”

“And tell Mysterion to cheer the fuck up,” Craig added. “Fucker makes me look like a barrel of laughs.”

“Yeah, practically a Butters Stotch,” Tweek said with a roll of his eyes.

“Thanks, guys,” I said as I grabbed my bag and bounded up the stairs.

Instead of changing outside I got into my gear in the Tuckers’ main bathroom, then snuck out through the back. My suit was rather thin, great for allowing movement and preventing any chafing, but not so much for keeping warm. It was bitter cold outside and made even more unbearable with a harsh wind that practically tore through me. I kept my grey hoodie on over it, zipping it just up to the logo on my chest, then booked it down the street. Outside was pitch black, the streetlamps casting a dull orange glow against the snow-covered roads. The snow was laid thick and heavy, which made me grateful for the boots I chose for my costume, and the crunch my feet made against the ground were practically ear-splitting in the silence.

Until I reached the road for main street, then I could hear the dull hum of the nightlife, see the neon signs light up for various bars, nightclubs, and diners. A few drunks were stumbling around, but nobody paid me any mind, especially when I tugged my hood up and kept my head down. There wasn’t any need for me to draw attention to myself yet, and my reddish-pink mask was pretty distinctive around here. I’d first began my career in crime fighting by tackling muggers, small-time drug dealers and lowly gang members who haunted South Park’s nights. Not so much anymore. That had been well over a year ago, and though things haven’t drastically improved, it’s still something. Baby steps, as Mom would say.

“Rook!”

I stopped at the sound of my name. The voice was Mysterion’s, no doubt about it, I’d recognize that gravelly tone anywhere, and it came from an alleyway, which is always a good place to hear your name being shouted from. The alleyway was blocked off by a chain gate, so I pushed it aside, wincing at the harsh creak it gave before stepping inside.

Mysterion dropped before me, clad in deep purples and blacks and a long cloak that ended at his feet. I almost felt a pang of envy over the fucking thing. It must have been great during long, freezing nights like this. Feeling the cold bite into me I rubbed at my arms, trying to repress the shudder that threatened to creep up my spine.

“You got here quickly,” Mysterion said.

“I came from Super Craig’s,” I replied.

He tilted his head.

“Sleepover.”

“You didn’t have to come out if you’d already made plans – “

“I wanted to,” I said, playfully punching his arm, “Besides, I still owe you for this.” I tapped my leg where a scar was now healing. I’d managed to stitch the hole the knife left in my costume using Mom’s sewing kit, so there was a raised bump of fabric where the tear had been. “The least I can do is keep you company on patrol.”

Mysterion’s mouth popped open then closed sharply, as though he were about to argue with me and then thought better of it. “C’mon. I managed to convince the Coon that we should split up to cover more ground. He actually agreed with me.”

“That’s probably because he’s sick of you too,” I teased, following after Mysterion as he climbed back up the wall. He chuckled then coughed to cover it up and something fluttered in my chest. It almost caught me off guard. The only other person who had that effect on me was Kenny, and it didn’t take much effort on his part. Kenny just had to breathe and I’d be swooning, that’s how bad I had it for him. It made me think about what Craig had said earlier, about just asking Kenny out and getting it over and done with. I’d only be risking mild embarrassment, at best, if I did or a lifetime of regret and wondering what could have been if I didn’t.

But what scared me most wasn’t either of those two things. It was what if Kenny said yes? What the hell did I do then? How do you go from being a friend to a boyfriend?

Mysterion waited for me at the edge and hoisted me up when I finally reached him. I wasn’t as good at climbing buildings and doing parkour like he was, but I knew how to control my breathing as to not leave myself winded. He didn’t immediately let go of me when I stood up safely on the roof, the flashing lights of the signs almost blinding me. We stood only a few centimeters apart and I could feel the heat of him, even through South Park’s freezing weather. I glanced at his hand then back up him and he suddenly dropped it, as if he’d just realized he’d still been holding me and took a step back.

“The Coon’s taking the high street tonight,” he said.

“You mean where all the restaurants are?”

“Hmm-hmm.”

“All right then,” I laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the night passed relatively uneventful, and by that, I mean there were no supervillains threatening the city, drug cartels to take down or corrupt police officers to bring to justice. Just a carjacker we left tied to a street lamp, a drunk woman we helped get home safe and a lost dog we returned to their owner. When it was nearing half four in the morning we took a break on the roof of some clothing store, sharing the snacks I’d bought for Craig’s sleepover and forgot to leave behind.

“So,” I began after swallowing a mouthful of chocolate, “What happened between Human Kite and the Coon anyway? You’d said he’d cut him?”

Mysterion nodded. “In his defense, he really hadn’t meant to. Human Kite stood in his way the last minute and couldn’t dodge in time. He was bleeding pretty bad and Toolshed didn’t want him going into shock so he took him back to base. I’ve been checking in, he’s fine now.”

“That’s good,” I said, stretching out my arms and yawning. “I suppose he and Toolshed got some time alone together, so it’s not all bad.”

“I like how even you can see how they pussyfoot around each other,” Mysterion smirked. “Sometimes I wish they’d both just grow a backbone and realize no-one is going to fucking care if they get together.”

I shrugged, feeling something tight curl low in my stomach. “Maybe it’s not that. They could just be afraid of ruining their friendship, making things weird, you know.”

Mysterion gave me a pointed look, and for a second, I thought I’d said something wrong until his lips twitched into a smile and he turned his head away. “Yeah. I suppose you’re right.”  

I smiled back. “I usually am.”

“Don’t go becoming a condescending douchebag on me now. We already have one of those.”

“We could make it two and have an absolute blast.”

“Please don’t. I would actually cry.”

I snorted. “All right, because you asked so nicely.” I stood then, stretching again as my joints clicked into place and my sore muscles screeched from exhaustion. “I’m going to head on now. Got to sneak into Craig’s house before sunrise.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“No. I’ll be fine. You should go home too. You look as though you’re about to pass out.” Underneath the mask, I could tell his eyes were slightly red and puffy and dark circles underlined them. “And here. I think you mentioned a sister once, right? Do you want to give her the rest of these candies?”

“I can’t take – “

“Yeah, you can. Here,” I laid the bag of goodies on his lap, “It’s a gift. So, don’t be a rude little bitch, Mystery Boy.”

His hands clenched then unclenched like he wasn't too sure what to do with them. He stared up at me, and it was only now that I noticed how alarmingly blue his eyes were. “How can you tell me not to be rude, and then just straight up call me a bitch?” Mysterion said with a small huff of laughter.

“With words, Mysterion. I do it with words.”

He kicked at my feet and I almost fell back, laughing.

By the time I finally got back to Craig's house, all my limbs were practically dead and my brain was shutting off in a last ditch effort to save itself. Thankfully I had enough brain power to figure out how doors worked and managed to successfully sneak in through the back without destroying the whole house. Everyone was sound asleep when I crept down into the rec room, Craig and Tweek sharing the air bed while Token took the couch and Clyde was passed out in a sleeping bag. My own sleeping bag was still laid out beside him. I didn't care that I was still in my hero costume, I toed off my boots and crawled into my makeshift bed and was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

  
I never said anything to Kenny. That shit was kept hidden all throughout elementary school and most of high school. I’d thought that it was just a simple, harmless crush, one that would go away on its own after a month or even two, but instead, it stuck around for years, like the stink of burned popcorn. I distracted myself with other stuff, like getting good grades, doing extracurriculars, deciding what college I was going to go to. The usual stuff that keeps your parents delighted and worry-free and the teachers from being on your back the whole time. And of course, I was also fighting crime at night, and really, beating up mob bosses is a great way to relieve pent-up frustrations. I wouldn’t recommend it to Tweek though.  
  


But I couldn’t just ignore Kenny forever.  
  


I walked into art class on that following Monday and found Kenny sitting next to Tweek. I’d heard that the home economics teacher was on maternity leave and her replacement hadn’t shown up yet. Our school didn’t have a lot of teachers or substitutes, so whenever there were free classes the students would usually be told to go to a certain class so the teacher there could keep an eye on them. Craig had sat in on art with us before, supposedly doing his math homework but really, he was watching Tweek paint. Which I could understand entirely, Tweek was _good_. Watching him paint was like watching Bob Ross paint, except instead of a soothing, gentle voice and little squirrel friends sitting in pockets, you got random, guttural sounds and coffee.  
  


The desks in art class were only big enough to fit two people so I sat down at the one in front of Tweek and Kenny, half turning in my seat to give Tweek back the calculator I’d borrowed from him earlier that day.  
  


“How’d your, ack, test go?” Tweek asked. He’d become long and lean over the years, easily surpassing Craig’s height and still going. Tweek told me how over one summer he’d had the most excruciating growing pains that would keep him up at night and all his parents could do was give him painkillers and hot water bottles to soothe the muscles. His baby fat was gone, revealing a very narrow face, slim jawline and pointed chin. Even some of the tiredness and stress in his eyes was gone, making them look a lot brighter, more alert, and a brilliant green colour. I could understand now why Craig thought he was the best-looking guy at school.  
  


I shrugged. I was pretty sure I did well but knew Tweek struggled with math and didn’t want to brag or make him feel shitty about it. “Don’t think I did too bad. But it was algebra and all the letters and numbers fuck me up a bit.”  
  


Tweek nodded sympathetically, then placed a hand on Kenny’s shoulder. He didn’t twitch or shake as much as he used to. All the therapy, proper medication, and support from his friends were really paying off. “We got Kenny today. He was supposed to go to one of the other classes until someone went home, ngh, last minute.” Tweek’s eyes met mine and I could see the smirk just about tugging at his mouth. “Lucky us.”  
  


Token and Clyde had already left by the time I woke up on Saturday and Craig’s family had gone out for the day, leaving Craig, Tweek and myself alone for another few hours. In that time, Craig, after asking if it was okay, told Tweek everything about what we’d talked about the night before. Tweek had pretty much the same reaction, “I, uh, already know. I kind of figured since, ngh, since Mr. Mackey kept pushing us to be friends with you.”  
  


“Seriously?” I’d said.  
  


“Yeah. Neither of us could think of another reason why, ah, why he’d want _Craig_ of all people to befriend the new kid.” He glanced at Craig. “No offense, honey.”  
  


Craig coolly flipped him off. “It doesn’t even matter anyway. No-one here gives a shit. So, stop caring so much.”  
  


That seemed a lot easier said than done. Especially when my parents already had expectations for my future, which included going to college, getting a great job, a nice house, marrying a pretty girl and giving them lots of adorable grandchildren to love and spoil. The normal, domestic life they never got to have. I didn’t want or even know how to break it to them that I couldn’t do it. Tweek and Craig had got outed by a bunch of students, and that was severely fucked up, but their parents seemed to understand and support them. I didn’t know if my parents would act the same way if I came out to them, especially if I told them that the guy I liked was the one they deemed a, “ _sex crazed maniac and pothead from a broken home_.” There were shitty rumors following nearly everyone in South Park High, but sadly Kenny got some of the worst ones. And it was those ones that my parents chose to believe.  
  


“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you’re both thrilled,” Kenny said. Like Tweek, he’d also gotten a lot taller but was still as thin as a rake. In fourth grade, I’d tried to buy lunches for him, but he was quick to tell me he wasn’t going to be anyone’s charity case. Even so, I always packed a little extra lunch and if he showed up with nothing, I’d offer him something from mine. He’d tried paying me back with the few dollars he’d made working at City Wok but I wouldn’t take it. I just didn’t want him to go hungry.  
  


In the end though, he did repay me for all the lunches when some sixth graders tried to corner me outside of school and steal my money. They’d split my lip and punched me hard enough in the gut to make me keel over. Kenny had stormed right up to them, punched the leader right in the face, hard enough to make his nose crunch and spurt blood, and told the others to back the fuck off, before taking my hand and dragging me inside. I remember saying something along the lines of, _“What the fuck, Kenny, you could get fucking expelled for this, Jesus fucking Christ, you’re going to get into so much fucking trouble because of my stupid ass, holy fuck.”_  
  


He didn’t get expelled because the sixth graders wouldn’t say anything. They must have been too embarrassed to tell anyone it was a scrawny kid that not only beat up their ringleader but also scared them into backing off. Or maybe they knew that if they said anything, they’d have to explain why a kid attacked them in the first place.  
  


Some people used to say that Kenny was kind of ugly as a kid, but puberty had been kind to him. He’d grown into his nose, which used to sit large and awkward on his face, his cheekbones were high and firm and the light dusting of freckles complimented his golden blond hair and bright blue eyes. Combine all that with his smart, compassionate personality and carefree attitude and you’ve got yourself my kryptonite. On legs. Though if a glowing green rock also had legs, I’d be pretty terrified of that.  
  


I couldn’t tell if I’d gotten any uglier or better looking from puberty. My voice had dropped and I got taller, that was all I knew. Mom once said I was looking more like my dad each day. That didn’t give me a whole lot of confidence.  Especially when she chose to say this just as Dad had passed out on the couch with cheese puff dust on his face and a hand down his pants. Clearly, I was on the road to success.  
  


“What did you two do over the weekend?” Kenny asked as he pulled out a rather battered looking biology book from his bag.  
  


“Slept over at Craig’s,” Tweek said, “Watched, ngh, watched some stupid fucking horror movie that was made worse with Bobbie’s phone screeching at me.”  
  


“I said I was sorry,” I said.  
  


“No, you didn’t. You just said you were deaf. That’s not an, ack, apology!”  
  


Kenny watched the two of us in amusement, but then shot me a smile that made my stomach flip.  
  


I blinked, trying to regain some composure. “Well then, I’m sorry my phone scared you. I’ll be having words with it.”  
  


Tweek tossed an eraser at me and it hit me square on the head just as the teacher strolled in. While art was the last class of the day, it was also a double, and so for the next hour and a half we kept our heads down and worked on drawing our self-portraits. The art teacher was fairly cool, letting us talk quietly or listen to music on our phones while we worked on art projects so long as we kept the volume low and took our headphones out the second she asked. I preferred to listen to music while I worked, it helped me concentrate better and today I needed my work to not look shitty. Landscapes, buildings, and objects I could draw alright, but people? I struggled with drawing people, they always ended up resembling someone’s LSD delusions come to life.  
  


Still, I was determined to at least get some good marks, as everything we did in our last year of art class counted towards our final grade. I drew my beak-like nose, lovingly given to me by my dad, my choppy black hair and slanted eyes, which are always a bitch to draw. They always either looked like they were falling out of my head or were just non-existent altogether. I was essentially being racist towards myself. It was a good thing PC Principal wasn’t the principal of South Park High or he would have absolutely destroyed me.  
  


“That’s really good,” Kenny said.  
  


My head snapped up because his voice hadn’t come from behind me but rather from right beside me. And sure enough, there he was, sitting on the stool next to mine, chin resting on his hand and smiling. The sight alone had my heart beating a little faster. I mentally kicked myself. There was no point fawning over Kenny in the middle of art class, especially when he was just trying to be friendly.  
  


“Thanks, Kenny,” I said, then looked over my shoulder to find Craig sitting next to Tweek instead. “Why are you here?”   
  


“Fuck you too, Robert,” Craig replied with a raised middle finger. “Woodshop teacher cut up his hand trying to show us something with a saw. Got sent to the hospital.”  
  


“Jesus.”  
  


“Yeah,” Kenny said, “That’s why I picked home ec. Woodshop is fucking dangerous shit and I don’t need more tetanus in my life.”  
  


“No, you’re just a pussy, McCormick,” Craig said.  
  


Kenny laughed. “And proud.”  
  


“Guys,” Tweek hissed, then gestured with his hand at himself and me, “We actually have work to do.”    
  


“Yeah, Kenny, shut up,” Craig said, only to get elbowed by Tweek.  
  


Kenny just rolled his eyes and returned to his biology book. I tried to get back to my drawing but every once in a while I’d glimpse at Kenny, and then immediately feel stupid and stalkerish for doing so. It wasn’t like this was the first time we ever sat next to each other for anything either. Kenny and I shared honors classes together, so I saw him nearly every single day. Which made this, me checking him out in art class of all places, incredibly fucking pathetic on my part. I should have just manned the fuck up and asked him out. Like Craig had said, no-one at school would really give a shit. But I was more afraid of making Kenny uncomfortable than anything. What if he saw all this as just me trying to get into his pants? Too many people already talked about Kenny being an easy fuck, and I didn’t know whether any of the rumors were true, but I didn’t want him to think I believed them.  
  


The bell rang for last class and those remaining forty minutes seemed to stretch on for years. I didn’t bother putting my headphones back in. Kenny worked steadily beside me while I shaded in my skin. It was tough when my skin was a tawny beige colour and I couldn’t let it look too dark or too light in the drawing. Sometimes I could feel Kenny watching what I was doing, and normally I didn’t give a shit. People looking over my shoulder at what I was drawing was something I sort of got used to since I draw a lot anyway, but with Kenny there came the added pressure of not wanting to fuck up in front of him.  
  


“Hey, Bobbie,” Kenny whispered, gently nudging my free arm, “I’m getting some food after school. You wanna come with?”  
  


“Uh, yeah sure,” I stammered, feeling a jolt of heat in my face. He’d caught me off guard and it was only too obvious, judging by the soft snort from Craig behind me. “Sounds good.”  
  


Finally, just minutes before the last bell rang, our teacher instructed us to hand up our work, regardless of whether they were done or not. I wasn’t happy with mine, but scrunching it up and chucking it into the bin wasn’t an option, so I handed it in with Tweek following behind me. Our teacher’s eyes lit up when she saw Tweek’s, so I knew he’d done a fantastic job. Kenny and Craig had already packed their bags and left for the lockers, along with most of the class.  
  


“I hate these self-portraits,” Tweek said as he gathered up his stuff, “I hate looking at myself for so long!”  
  


“But you did really well,” I said.  
  


“Ah! I’m just glad it’s done with,” Tweek nearly tore the zipper right off his bag with how hard he tugged it.  
  


Outside the hallways were already packed with students rushing to get their stuff and head home, though there were some who were staying behind either for sports or after school study. Usually, I’d be the latter, preferring to hang out with Butters or Scott in the library rather than heading home to an empty house. Today, however, I’d been expecting to do study alone as both Scott and Butters had other plans, but not anymore. Kenny’s words flittered across my brain and caused another surge of heat in my chest, which I tried to squash back down.  
  


Friends get food together all the time, there wasn’t any point making a big deal out of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Before I could even throw my last book into my bag, my locker was slammed shut and a hand yanked on my jacket sleeve.  


“I’m borrowing him for a minute,” I heard Stan say to Tweek, who did nothing except give us a curious look as I was dragged away.  


We ended up in the boy’s bathroom, standing among ripped up pieces of tissue paper, discarded bar wrappers, and a spilled soda can. Stan kicked this to the side, hands shoved deep into his pockets, jaw clenched. There were dark bags under his eyes and his short dark hair stuck out from underneath his hat at odd angles.    


“What’s up?” I asked.  


Stan checked to see if all the cubicles were empty, then moved to lock the bathroom door. For anyone else, this would raise all sort of red flags, but the Freedom Pals usually held quick meetings in the school bathrooms. Mostly just to switch patrols around or to come up with an alibi for someone else. Everyone in Freedom Pals knew who the other was, all except for Mysterion. He was a vigilante long before any of us were, so you could say he was a big inspiration for everyone. We’d been surprised when he accepted an invitation to join our group, on the one condition that we were to never discover his true identity.  


The Coon called bullshit on this and tried to rip Mysterion’s hood off, only for him to grab his arm and bend it back hard enough to almost break. There were tears in the Coon’s eyes, his mouth twisted in pain and legs kicking out to knock Mysterion off of him, but he didn’t budge. His own mouth was pressed into a thin, firm line as he leaned in and whispered something into the Coon’s ear, before shoving him down onto the ground. The rest of the room had fallen silent, each of us glancing at one another anxiously as the Coon struggled to get back on his feet and reign in his pained whimpers. Human Kite had broken the silence with a cough and said, “All right, we won’t ask who you are. But don’t lay a hand against any of us ever again.”  


Stan stood against the bathroom door, arms folded, but I could see how bad his hands were shaking.  


“I need… I mean, are you busy tonight?” Stan asked.  


I huffed out a laugh, trying to ease the tension weighing heavily in the room. “Why? Are you asking me out?”  


Stan rolled his eyes. “Sorry, you’re not my type. Besides, I have a bit more class than to ask someone out in a disgusting bathroom.”  


“Ouch. Anyway, I didn’t make any plans, so what do you need?”  


He took a deep breath. “How much do you know about what happened Friday night?”  


I blinked. “You mean when Kyle got hurt?”  


“Yeah.”  


“Not much to be honest. Mysterion said it was an accident – “  


Stan scoffed. “Yeah. That’s what Cartman kept saying. Look, I don’t know too much about what went down either, but I don’t want Kyle and Cartman alone together again in case another “accident” happens.”  


“So, you want me to take Kyle’s patrol?”  


“Please? I’ll take one of yours. Maybe Saturday?” He smiled, then added teasingly. “I know Kenny’s not doing anything then – “  


I froze for a split second, wondering how he could possibly know, then I remembered what Craig had said that Friday night. Apparently, Stan, Kyle and even Cartman of all fucks, knew about my dumb crush on Kenny. So, it was safe to say that Kenny could have possibly known too, and I was just making him feel super awkward about it.  


Groaning, I shrugged my bag onto my back. “Stan, don’t make this weirder than it already is.”  


“No-one thinks it’s weird, Bobbie. You’re just a dude into another dude, it’s fine.” He walked over to me and slapped a hand on the shoulder not supporting my bag. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s only Kyle and me that know. Cartman had suspicions and tried telling people but no-one really believed him or cared. And Kenny doesn’t ever talk to him anymore.”  


I nodded, but what Stan said did nothing to ease the knot growing in my stomach. If word got around school that I was probably gay that would be all right, I could have dealt with that. But if word got around to my parents? I didn’t want to have that conversation. They had such high expectations for me and already had a future my future planned out and I didn’t want to disappoint them. I didn’t want to be a son they never wanted.  


“I’ll take Kyle’s route tonight,” I said, just to change the subject.  


Stan smiled. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back for this, I promise.”  


I waited for Stan to unlock the door again before we stepped back out into the corridor. Only a few students remained, some talking in groups, others heading towards the library for study. Stan usually did football after school, but today he walked with me to the main entrance and we talked about some dumb shit his dad did over the weekend. Randy Marsh was always great for an icebreaker.  


When we got outside the air was crisp and cool and snowflakes were falling gently to the ground. The sky was already darkening, deep blue and purple clouds streaked across the horizon. I zipped my jacket all the way up and fished for my gloves in my pockets, already feeling the chill biting into my skin, when Stan stopped suddenly.  


“Actually, can you come back inside with me? I think I forgot something,” he said.  


I glanced back at him and noticed he was staring straight ahead. “What’d you forget?” I asked while turning to see what he was looking at.  


Another shock of cold hit me then, but it didn’t come from the weather. At the gates, I could see a familiar orange cladded figure with sunny blond hair pressing up against another blonde in a deep red coat. We were far away enough from them, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were doing. My chest tightened hard enough that I thought my ribs would break and a hot wash of shame swept over me. Of course, Kenny was already dating someone. Why wouldn’t he be? He was one of the sweetest and the nicest people around, he deserved the world.  


Stan gingerly touched my arm, and I didn’t notice until then that I was shaking.  


“Dude?” Stan said softly.  


“Yeah,” I replied numbly, “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m… “  


I remembered that I was supposed to be getting food with Kenny, but the thought of getting food with him and his girlfriend made my stomach plummet. I knew I was being petty and selfish, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  


“Going to head home,” I continued, “Do you mind telling Kenny something came up?”  


Stan was quiet for a second, eyes narrowed before he nodded. “Yeah, all right. Look, it’s probably not what – “  


“It’s not really any of my business what it is or isn’t,” I said, then flinched when I realized I’d basically snapped at Stan, who’d done nothing wrong. I patted his hand that was still holding my arm and attempted a half-smile at him. “It’s fine. I’m okay.”  


“I’ll text you later,” Stan said before dropping his hand.  


Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I waved at him before heading off in the opposite direction.  


 

* * *

 

 

I went home, glad for once that both my parents were working night shifts, and headed straight for my room. For the next hour or so I tried to focus on homework, tried to think of anything else other than Kenny and his girlfriend, but I’d find my mind slipping and each time it did a cold wave would wash over me.  


Deep down, I knew I was being ridiculous. High school relationships weren’t ever meant to last, teenage hormones being what they are, and I knew that it was mostly my fault for having never said anything to begin with. If I ever had a chance, I’d definitely wasted it by pussyfooting around Kenny for as long as I did. I couldn’t be angry with either him or his girlfriend, and yet some small, selfish part of me wanted to be. It wanted someone to blame that wasn’t myself because that’s always easier.  


Still, I couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. When it became clear that I wasn’t going to get a lot of work done tonight I pushed my books aside and went downstairs for food. I didn’t feel like cooking, so instead, I shoved a frozen pizza into the oven and checked my phone while I waited. There were several unread texts, three from Stan, two from Craig.  


**[Stan]** _Dude I swear I didn’t know_

 **[Stan]** _Kenny never said anything_

 **[Stan]** _Are you okay?_  


I quickly texted back that I was fine, just tired and getting something to eat. Then I read Craig’s messages.  


**[Craig]** _Tweek saw you walking home earlier, said you looked like you were about to cry_

[ **Craig]** _So what’s up?_  


Deciding it wouldn’t be fair to drag Craig and Tweek into this, I typed out that everything was fine and that I’m probably getting sick or something. For the next half hour or so I ate pizza by myself and watched some speed paints on YouTube from my phone. It was only when I was on the third video that I heard a thump from upstairs.  


I paused the video and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if it wasn’t just the sound of the house creaking or something falling over on its own, when a second thump followed louder this time. Shooting up from my chair, I grabbed my phone and the knife I’d used to cut the pizza and crept out into the living room. I’d turned on most of the lights after coming downstairs, so I could clearly see a shadow cast across the wall as I carefully snuck up the stairs.  


Someone was definitely in my room.    


I pressed myself against the wall, as my bedroom door was wide open, and tightened my hold on the knife. A few seconds passed while I readied myself for anything when a familiar voice cut through the silence.  


“I like your paintings, Rook. They’re really good.”  


I sighed, shoulders sagging as relief flooded my body. Mysterion. Mysterion was in my house, not some fucker off the street breaking in.  


My head thumped against the wall. “You scared the shit out of me,” I said.  


“I know.”  


He stepped out into the hallway, and I could’ve sworn the fucker was smirking at me. He leaned against the wall beside me, glancing down at the knife still clenched in my fist.  


“What were you going to do with that?” he asked.  


“Cut you a piece of cake. The fuck else would I do with this?” I said, waving it.  


“Put it down, maybe? That’d be nice too.”  


I rolled my eyes at him as I stepped away from the wall to enter my room. He followed after me, arms folded behind his back as he returned to looking at my paintings on the wall, the very picture of innocence. I dropped the knife onto my desk, where my homework still lay scattered, then turned to face him.  


“So, what are you here for, Mystery Boy?”  


He cocked his head to one side. “You’re with me tonight, remember?”  


Oh right, Kyle, I’d taken his route. I rubbed at my forehead, already feeling a headache creeping behind my eyes. “Right, right. Sorry, I’d forgotten entirely.”  


Mysterion just nodded, moving to sit on my bed. “Rough day?”  


“Kinda.”  


“You wanna talk about it?”  


The thought of opening up to Mysterion of all people made me smile. Imagine telling the most badass vigilante in all of South Park how your little gay feelings were crushed because the guy you liked was straight and had a girlfriend. I couldn’t tell if he’d be the type to tell me to get over it and move on or scoff in my face and tell me how stupid I was being.  


“Can’t be all bad,” he said, kicking at my foot lightly, “You’re smiling.”  


“Yeah and now I have to get dressed, or do you want to stay for that?”  


“Well if you’re offering – “ Mysterion replied, and shot me another smirk.  


That tripped me up. I was pulling my uniform out from a small compartment hidden inside my wardrobe but stopped after I heard his response. Trying to reclaim some small amount of dignity, I forced out a chuckle. “I didn’t know you were into dudes.”  


I heard a soft hum over my shoulder and glanced up to see Mysterion standing over me.  


“There’s a lot you don’t know I’m into,” he said, before turning on his heel and leaving the room for downstairs. I stared after him, wondering what in the hell had gotten into him tonight. Mysterion, of all people, couldn’t have been flirting with me, could he? Or was this just some new joke between us? A way for him to show he was comfortable with and trusted me? Maybe we were friends now. With a slight shake of my head, I gathered up my gear and shut the wardrobe closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again so much for your kind words and support. :D


	4. Chapter 4

My parents weren’t supposed to be home until early the next morning, but I still sent a quick text to both of them saying I would be staying over at a friend’s house for the night. My dad responded first with a, “Remember to lock everything before you go.”    
  


As I yanked off my clothes and threw on my costume, I called down to Mysterion that there was some leftover pizza in the kitchen if he wanted any. He didn’t reply, so I assumed he hadn’t heard me and kept getting ready. Afterwards, I shot Tweek a text asking if it was all right if I crashed at his place tonight. Immediately I was bombarded with a bunch of messages asking if I was okay, had my parents kicked me out, was I homeless, what the hell happened today? I texted back that I was fine, no I hadn’t been kicked out, but I’m doing hero stuff tonight and needed an alibi. Tweek, as though he’d never freaked out in the first place, replied, “Yeah that’s okay! I’ll leave my window unlocked.”  
  


I wondered how he was going to explain my sudden appearance to his parents as I headed downstairs. They were used to Craig being at their house all the time and wouldn’t question him showing up late at night, but I wasn’t sure how’d they react to me.  
  


Mysterion was leaning against the kitchen countertops, eating a slice of pizza. It was a jarring sight, one of the most awesome superheroes around who I’d seen break people’s limbs and beat others into a bloody pulp, just quietly eating pizza and watching dog videos on his phone. I would have called him cute, but I don’t think that work could ever be applied to someone like Mysterion. Remembering what he’d said upstairs, my face warmed and I tried to play it off by focusing on getting my dishes cleaned. All I’d used was a plate, now empty thanks to Mysterion, and the pizza cutter, but I didn’t want to come back and hear either of my parents complaining about all the mess I left behind.  
  


“How’d you get in here anyway?” I asked while scrubbing pizza sauce from my plate at the sink.  
  


Mysterion was close enough that our elbows sometimes brushed against each other. “Your window,” he replied before stuffing the last of the crust into his mouth.  
  


“Right. I’ll have to go lock that again.”  
  


“Already did.”  
  


I breathed out a laugh. “You know my parents could have been home right? What would you have done if either of them had caught you instead of me?”  
  


He shrugged. “I’m your boyfriend and this,” he gestured towards his costume, “Is the kinky shit we’re into?”  
  


Something cold pierced through my stomach hearing that. I knew he was joking, had to be, but the idea of anyone telling my parents about me was enough to leave me feeling a little sick. They’d be so disappointed and I’d have no way of making it up to them…  
  


Mysterion’s hand clenched my shoulder. “I was joking, dude,” he said softly, the softest I’d ever heard him, “But I can lay off if it makes you that uncomfortable.”  
  


I offered a weak smile. “It’s not you.”  
  


His hand was still against my shoulder. “So… Your parents, then?”  
  


Thinking there was no point in hiding it from Mysterion, he was one of those people who could find out anything eventually, I sighed and said, “Yeah. I don’t think they’d be too happy with… You know.”  
  


“Yeah,” Mysterion squeezed me reassuringly, “I know.”  
  


I finished cleaning and began packing us a few supplies for the night, mainly water bottles, granola bars, and a small medical kit. Mysterion watched me the whole time, his face inscrutable. Granted, it’s hard to read any expression when it’s hidden underneath a hood and a mask, but tonight he seemed… Not really himself. Between the flirting and the sad, almost dejected slump to his body, I could tell something was up.  
  


But I didn’t say anything for the first few hours of our patrol. For the most part, the night was quiet. We had one lowly thief try to rob a cashier at knifepoint, but we managed to subdue him before he could hurt anyone. The cashier, a middle-aged woman with greying hair and red-rimmed eyes clung to me in shock while we waited for the police to show up. She was shaking so bad and all I could do was tell her she was safe, the police were on their way, would she like us to call someone? She only shook her head and clung to my arm, her well-manicured nails biting into my skin. Mysterion kept an eye on the thief, and though his back was turned to me I could practically feel the anger and disgust seeping from him. When the police finally arrived, about twenty minutes later, we took our leave through the back. Some cops would try to arrest us for our vigilante ways, so it was best to just keep out of their way entirely.  
  


When we finally met up with the Coon it was nearing midnight. We found him standing on a rooftop, red cape billowing behind him while he hunched over what appeared to be some papers. He stuffed them back into his coat pocket when he heard us coming.  
  


“Took you assholes long enough,” the Coon said. His clawed fingers held a wicked gleam in the moonlight, and I couldn’t help but look at them and think back to Kyle. Stan hadn’t believed it’d been an accident, yet Mysterion defended the Coon, something he rarely ever did. I didn’t think Stan would ever lie about something so serious, but then again, he hated Cartman. So, was he biased? Mysterion didn’t strike me as the lying type either. He was the type that deflected questions or responded sarcastically, but, as far as I knew, never outright lied. And what reason would he have to defend the Coon if he was guilty?  
  


“We were busy, Cartman,” Mysterion said.  
  


The Coon stiffened. “Not out in public, you dumb shit!” he snapped.    
  


It didn’t surprise me when Mysterion revealed he knew who most of us were. He seemed like the type who would take all the precautions. Still, I decided to tell him who I was while we were recovering at the base from a rather grueling night. He’d been quiet for a few minutes, eyes wide, before finally saying, “I… Thank you…” Before breaking off awkwardly. I wondered if he genuinely hadn’t known who I was or didn’t think I’d trust him enough to tell him myself.  
  


“Coon,” I said, raising a hand against Mysterion’s chest before he could retort, “What are we doing tonight? Taking different parts of the city like last time or?”  
  


“No. I’ve got wind of something big you guys,” he paused dramatically, eyes darting between me and Mysterion, “A drugs shipment. Another crime family. We take these motherfuckers down tonight.”  
  


“Where?” I asked.  
  


“The deal’s going down in that new Greek restaurant, but the actual shipment will be around the back. I’ll be keeping an eye on the actual bosses inside, while you two take out their lackeys.”  
  


“This sounds like a pretty big job,” I said, “Bigger than just the three of us. Shouldn’t we call in some of the others?”  
  


“We don’t need the others,” the Coon said quickly, turning his back on me. “We can handle this.”  
  


A large part of me was convinced no-one else would work with the Coon tonight because of the Human Kite incident, but I kept my mouth shut.  
  


“You and I can handle shit like this,” Mysterion said, “But Rook doesn’t have any superpowers. He’ll fucking die if this goes wrong.”  
  


“He’s helped with crime families before.”  
  


“With almost a whole team with him!” Mysterion almost snarled, “But right now we’re just three people against who the fuck knows how many armed goons.”  
  


“Then tell him to fuck off if it bothers you so much,” the Coon said with a shrug, before regarding me with a hard stare. “I’d always said there was no point bringing you in. What fucking use is a superhero with no superpowers?”  
  


“A hell of a lot more than you, _Eric_ ,” I said.  
  


The Coon’s face twisted and I knew he was about to spit something back at me, but Mysterion interjected. “Call backup, Cartman, or you’re on your own.”  
  


I watched as the Coon bristled up like an angry cat. “Fuck you two, then. I don’t need you.”  
  


With that, the Coon pounced off the ledge and landed with a dull thud on the pavement below. A garbage can toppled over, its contents spilling out onto the curb. We watched as the Coon ran out onto the street, neatly dodging traffic and ignoring the drivers’ blaring their horns at him to get out of the way. He reached the mouth of a dark alleyway across the street, turned on his heel and raised his middle finger at us, before disappearing into the darkness.  
  


Mysterion only scoffed and crossed his arms. “He’s going to get himself killed.”  
  


A minute of silence passed between us.  
  


“Want to go after him then? And I’ll call in people?”  
  


He only shook his head while I spoke, grounding his jaw. “We need time to plan shit like this. How long do you think he knew?”  
  


I shrugged. “He had something with him though. Did you see that?”  
  


“Yeah. And how fast he hid them when we showed up.” Mysterion sighed. “We don’t have time to wait for the others so we’re just going to have to stop him, or this crime family, ourselves. I trust you not to die.”  
  


“Thank you.”  
  


“You’re welcome.” Mysterion actually smiled at me, and it caught me off guard until it was quickly replaced by his usual scowl. I blinked, heat rushing to my chest, as he took a step back and began his descent down the fire-escape we’d used to get up there. Balling my hands into fists, I followed after him.

 

* * *

 

  
We arrived at the restaurant the Coon mentioned. It’d only been opened a few months, I remembered hearing Mom talk about it. She wanted to go there for her birthday but came down with stomach flu just the night before. Dad had been trying to get a reservation ever since but it was always booked full. Through the windows, I could the place was packed for a Monday night, full of people dressed to impress. The décor was all made out to look like a Greek temple, with columns, red, white and blue colour schemes and even paintings of some of the Greek gods on the walls. Token and his family were there, along with his girlfriend Nicole and her parents. I didn’t think teenage couples had dinners at fancy restaurants with their parents but then again, I wasn’t hip with the times.  
  


It did offer me some relief though. If shit hit the fan, at least Token would be there as backup. I thought about sending him a text about what was going on, but Mysterion tugged me towards the back alley.  
  


“Tupperware’s here,” I whispered as we crept through the darkness.  
  


“I saw him,” Mysterion whispered back, “Maybe the Coon did have a plan and we just jumped to con – “  
  


A sudden bang caught our attention and we hid behind one of the food vans parked outside.  
  


Two voices sounded over the distant clanging and barked orders from the kitchens. Both were men and neither had a Greek accent.  
  


“So, the fucker never showed up, huh?” One said.  
  


“Nah. He bailed last minute and the boss isn’t too happy. Now we’ve got all this extra shit to lug around and nowhere for it to go.”  
  


There was a jingling of keys and then the sharp metallic slide of a truck door opening. Were they getting out the containers were the drugs were kept?  
  


“What’s the plan?” I asked quietly.  
  


Mysterion peered around the corner, fingers drumming lightly on the van. “I’ve got two smoke bombs. But I don’t know how many guys there are.”  
  


“What if I caused a distraction somewhere else?”  
  


“How? By showing off your pretty face?” He said this so nonchalantly that I had to assume he was joking.  
  


I elbowed him. “I’m serious. I could force them out while you – “  
  


“That puts you in more danger, Rook.”  
  


“We’re in danger anyway just sitting ba- “  
  


Something crashed inside the restaurant and people screamed. Mysterion and I shot up but didn’t move from behind the van. Instead, we watched as the two men ran back inside, the back-door slamming shut behind them. They’d left their truck open.  
  


“Evidence,” Mysterion said with a snap of his fingers, “That’s what we can do now. Gather evidence before it’s destroyed.”  
  


We ran for the truck. While Mysterion searched through containers, I stood on guard. Despite the seriousness of the situation, my mind kept slipping back to how weirdly Mysterion had acted tonight. The flirting, the joking and the sad eyes he would give me whenever he thought I wasn’t looking, it was all too strange.  
  


“So, I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s up with you tonight?”  
  


“What do you mean?”  
  


“You know,” I gestured between him and me, even though he couldn’t see it, “This. The flirting. I couldn’t help but notice – “  
  


“Really?” He said sarcastically.  
  


I ignored that. “I’ve never heard you flirt with anyone before and you’re laying it on thick tonight.”  
  


He slammed down the lid of one of the containers, and I almost jumped out of my skin. “If you don’t like it…”  
  


“It’s not that,” I said, surprising us both, “It’s just… I feel like there’s something bothering you. And I know you don’t owe me shit, but, you know, maybe you’d feel better talking about it?”  
  


“You know we’re in the back of a drug dealer’s truck, right?”  
  


“I didn’t say right now, jackass.”  
  


He snorted and shut another lid closed, less aggressively this time. A few minutes of silence between us passed, and in that time, I could hear the commotion only getting worse inside. It sounded like a brawl. What if the Coon decided to take out the crime bosses by himself and was getting the shit beaten out of him? I didn’t like the guy but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him get fucking killed either.  
  


I’d almost forgotten Mysterion and I were even talking about before he said, “You don’t think I might just really like you or something?”  
  


He’d sounded so soft and …. Almost vulnerable. I didn’t know how to react. “You wouldn’t be so angry about it if that were the case,” I said, just as quietly.  
  


“I’m not angry at you,” he said quickly.  
  


I frowned. “I didn’t think you were.”  
  


“Right… Look just… Fuck!”  
  


His outburst startled me and I narrowly avoided getting hit by a stray carton. “What the fuck was that?” I said.  
  


“Guess what’s in these fucking boxes, Rook. Just fucking guess.”  
  


I turned, only to see him yank out another carton of Greek yogurt and wave it around furiously.  
  


“This is the Coon’s dreaded “ _drug shipment_ ”. And I’m going to fucking kill him.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say I'm so incredibly grateful for all the positive comments and feedback I've gotten so far? Thank you all so much for everything, I truly appreciate it and hope you enjoy the story and its future updates. 
> 
> This chapter comes with artwork made by shotthroughttheheart https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/523945191791525889/524015069575512074/20181216_190838.jpg
> 
> It was such an unexpected surprise and I love it so much. Thank you again you precious precious being :D


	5. Chapter 5

“We could have the wrong truck,” I said as Mysterion stormed out of the vehicle, kicking aside the carton he’d almost thrown at me. He stopped, then took a deep breath.  
  


“The only other vehicle out here is that van,” he gestured towards the van we’d hid behind, “So we’ll check that. But if there’s nothing there, I am going to find the Coon and strangle his fat neck.”  
  


I flinched at his guttural tone, only now noticing how much he lessened it whenever he spoke to me. Mysterion didn’t spare me another look as he stalked over to the van, body rigid, and still cursing the Coon under his breath. While he checked the van, I kept watch in case anybody came through the back-door and saw us. Glass shattered and more people screamed, but through the chaos, I could distinctly hear the Coon’s voice, yet couldn’t make out what he was saying. For his sake, I hoped he had a good excuse as to why we raided the place. I’d seen Mysterion lose his temper with criminals before, mainly anyone who hurt kids, and it wasn’t something I’d like repeated.  
  


The van doors slammed shut, jolting me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Mysterion, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.  
  


“I’m going to fucking kill him,” he snarled.  
  


So, nothing there either? My stomach churned as I heard another crash from inside. If the Coon fucked up this bad and had us attack a perfectly normal restaurant with no seedy ties, then how were the Freedom Pals ever going to be trusted again? Everyone else and all the good they did wouldn’t matter once word of this spread out, and it would only get worse if people saw the Coon and Mysterion beating on each other. How was anyone supposed to trust us again if we seemingly couldn’t trust each other?  
  


I held out my hands to Mysterion, barely touching his chest, and he stopped, glaring at me.  
  


“You’ll make it worse if you do,” I said.  
  


“Worse? He’s gone too far this time. We can just sit back and do nothing.”  
  


“I know,” I said, rubbing my forehead. A headache was already building behind my eyes. “I know, but what can we do that doesn’t fuck shit up more?”  
  


“I don’t think anyone on the team would object if we murder him. I know a place where we could stash the body.” A corner of his mouth lifted.  
  


I huffed out a laugh. “You scare me sometimes, you know that?”  
  


“Hopefully in the best way.” He winked and a bolt of heat shot up my back.  
  


Mysterion breezed past me, cape billowing behind him. I stood there for a second or two, my brain struggling to comprehend what the shit was going on. Our conversation in the truck… I didn’t think he could be serious about that. Sure, he’d sounded sincere, but he could also sound sincere when he promised a criminal he wasn’t going to hurt them in interrogation, then proceed to punch them in the face.  
  


I just couldn’t see Mysterion as the type of person to be able to fall for anyone. He was the lone wolf of our group, the most intense, melodramatic hero who wouldn’t let anything, or anyone, get in the way of justice. I couldn’t see him with anyone, or having feelings for anyone. So, I had to assume this was some joke to cover up something else as I followed him around the back of the restaurant. Cobblestone crunched beneath our boots, no matter how carefully we moved. We couldn’t be sure that there was more staff around that wouldn’t love to kick the shit out of us for the damage the Coon caused. Thinking about it again made my stomach flip.  
  


We peered in through the windows, only to see the place in total chaos. Tables and chairs were knocked over, dinner plates and glass smashed on the ground, scattered bits of food and the Coon standing above a small group of men in business suits. Each one knocked unconscious or… I didn’t want to think about it. All were peppered with bruises, cuts and the Coon looked no worse for wear. His cape had been torn, a few of his claws were missing and he had a split lip, but otherwise seemed totally fine. Mysterion’s knuckled tightened on the windowsill, hard enough I heard his knuckles crack.  
  


“He could still be telling the truth about this,” I said, placing my hand over Mysterion’s trembling one to steady him, “Just because we couldn’t find the drugs doesn’t mean – “  
  


“He gets one chance,” Mysterion growled, “One chance to explain himself. Otherwise, I’m breaking his fucking legs.”  
  


I swallowed thickly and nodded. Mysterion opened the window, which had already been left slightly ajar, and climbed inside, with me following shortly after.  
  


The heat hit me like a tidal wave, and I only now noticed how cold I’d actually been. My fingers and toes were bordering on numb. Mysterion didn’t seem to notice the change at all and stomped over to the Coon, not caring if he stepped on glass or food on the way. The Coon smiled brightly at us, his hands on his hips and his chin jutting up proudly.  
  


“Didn’t need you assholes after all,” he said, “Took them out by myself.”  
  


As if to prove his point he kicked one of the downed men, who groaned in pain. Mysterion lunged, grabbing the Coon’s jacket and slamming into one of the plaster columns that lined the room.  
  


“You’ve got five seconds to tell us the truth, Coon,” he said.  
  


The Coon blinked behind his mask, his own hands yanking at Mysterion’s arms. His claws tore at the fabric, some even nicking the skin, but Mysterion didn’t flinch once.  
  


“What the shit are you doing?” The Coon snapped.  
  


“We didn’t find anything suspicious in the truck,” I said.  
  


“Then you didn’t look fucking hard enough!”  
  


“Three seconds, Coon,” Mysterion snarled. “Why’d you attack these people?”  
  


“Because they’re fucking drug dealers, you stupid prick. Let me go!”  
  


Sirens sounded in the distance. Police. My blood ran cold as Mysterion and I spared each other a look before turning back to the Coon. We’d have to get out of here soon or else we’d look responsible for this shit. A part of me wanted to leave the Coon behind to get nabbed by the cops, but another part rationalized that we didn’t know the whole story, and maybe the Coon was innocent after all. Well, maybe innocent was too strong a word.  
  


“We can’t find any evidence to back that up. So, unless you want me to beat you into a bloody pulp you better start talking Coon. What’s the real reason behind this attack?”  
  


The Coon curled his upper lip and said nothing.  
  


“Just talk, Coon,” I said, “Don’t piss him off even more.”    
  


The Coon scoffed at me. “Now you’re all up on this assbag’s dick? And here I thought Kenny’s was your favourite.”  
  


My stomach plummeted at the mention of Kenny’s name. Any clever retort I had died on my tongue as I remembered Kenny and his girlfriend from earlier. The Coon sneered when he saw my fallen expression.  
  


“Fuck you,” Mysterion snapped before I could say anything, “You don’t get to shit talk him after the stunt you pulled.”  
  


“Stunt? I’m saving the city!”  
  


Tires screeched outside and through the windows, we saw cops getting out of their cars.  
  


“Mysterion,” I began.  
  


Mysterion merely glanced at me before throwing the Coon aside. “We gave you a chance,” he said before following after me towards the window.  
  
  


* * *

 

 

We headed straight for HQ, but took random twists and turns to throw off any pursuing cops. By the time we reached it my lungs were burning and all I wanted to do was collapse onto something horizontal and forget I existed. Mysterion punched in the code for the doors to unlock and we practically threw ourselves inside.  
  


All the lights were off, so it was safe to say no-one else had arrived yet. I wasn’t sure who else was on patrol that night, but all I could do was hope they didn’t get dragged into this bullshit. While switching on the lights I began to pull my hoodie off, my sweat making it cling to me uncomfortably. I’d definitely need a shower later. I couldn’t imagine how Mysterion felt underneath his thick hood and bodysuit. For once I felt smug about my costume.  
  


I collapsed onto the couch and Mysterion followed suit, breathing heavily. A few strands of pale blond hair were poking out underneath his hood. Funny, I hadn’t pegged him for a blond.  
  


“So,” Mysterion said after a few minutes of silence, “Who’s Kenny?”  
  


Heat spread across my cheeks. “Oh… You know…” I thought about lying and saying the Coon was making shit up, just to spare myself the embarrassment, but I didn’t want to lie to Mysterion either. “A guy I like. It’s nothing.”  
  


“Nothing, huh?”  
  


“Yeah. He’s dating someone so it doesn’t really matter anymore.”  
  


The smile slipped from Mysterion’s face. “Oh. I’m sorry.”  
  


“Don’t be,” I said, nudging his arm, “It’s not your fault.”  
  


He didn’t respond and so we fell into a rather awkward silence. I focused on trying to regain my will to live, my heart still thudding hard in my chest. Soon I’d have to get up to run all the way back into town to get to Tweek’s house, and my body was already protesting to the idea by screaming at me. So, to take my mind off of impending agony, I thought about other things instead. About the homework I still had left to do, that’s always lovely, and about plans for the weekend. When Craig had brought up the idea of asking Kenny out and to stop being a pansy about it, I’d thought about maybe asking him to see a movie with me. Something casual that didn’t have to mean too much and if he clearly wasn’t interested then I could just play it off as a friendly friend outing with friends.  
  


But that wasn’t going to happen now, and that made my heart sink just a bit lower. I’d liked Kenny for so long and I wasn’t sure how I was going to get over it. I knew I would have to, it’d be both selfish and unhealthy for me to keep wanting him when he was happier with someone else, but it still hurt. I wouldn’t describe it as being like my heart had been ripped from my chest, but rather that someone had shoved a chunk of ice in there instead.  
  


Thinking about this led me to remember how cold it was inside the truck, and then to what Mysterion had said. _“You don’t think I might just really like you or something?”_  
  


I still wasn’t sure if he’d been joking with me or not, it was hard to tell with someone like Mysterion.  
  


“Hey, so, about earlier,” I said.  
  


Mysterion grunted as if to say he was listening.  
  


“On the truck… Was that real?”  
  


He was quiet for a second, as though he wasn’t sure what exactly I was talking about, but I saw it when it dawned on him, how his eyes widened and a slight tinge of colour filled his cheeks. “Well, it wasn’t imaginary,” he replied, shifting in his seat.  
  


“Wow, you’re so clever,” I rolled my eyes, playfully kicking at his foot.  
  


“Aw, you think I’m clever.”  
  


“I know you are.”  
  


Mysterion gave me a lopsided grin, and it was probably the happiest I’d ever seen him. The sight made my stomach flip.  
  


“But to answer your question,” he said, “The truck thing… Yeah, that was real. I wouldn’t joke about shit like this.”  
  


I blinked in surprise, as I’d expected for him to shut down the question entirely and never answer. Now it was my turn to shift uncomfortably. “Oh.”  
  


Mysterion _liked_ me. Mysterion liked me and I told him straight to his face that I liked someone else, and then I kept flirting with him. This was worse than me seeing Kenny kiss his girlfriend, this was digging the knife in the wound and then adding a thick helping of salt just for kicks. I was a fucking asshole, and then all I had to say for myself was, “ _Oh_.”  
  


“You know nothing has to happen,” Mysterion said softly, as though sensing my internal breakdown. “I don’t expect anything.”  
  


“No,” I said, “I know what you mean. I just… I think you’re great but I don’t know.“  
  


I knew I had to let go and move on, but I couldn’t do that by throwing myself into someone else’s arms. Especially not Mysterion, who deserved far more than just being someone’s rebound or second choice.  
  


“It’s okay, Bobbie. You’ve been hurt today. I don’t expect you to date me right away.”  
  


I smiled weakly at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still single.”  
  


“So am I.”  
  


That made me laugh, and the tension lessened considerably while we sat and chuckled together. We talked about other things, things that didn’t involve feelings or unrequited crushes, until eventually, I felt strong enough to take on the outdoors again.  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to put this out here, because I meant to say something in the last chapter and forgot because I'm useless, haha. 
> 
> I'd like to give a huge thank you to everyone who commented, gave kudos and generally supported this story in their own way, it has given me a huge boost in confidence and encouraged me to keep going with this story. It's honestly more than I ever expected and I appreciate every single one of you. 
> 
> This next chapter is a little shorter compared to other chapters, but that's because I changed it around a good bit to have certain things happen in the next chapter. So expect that one to be longer. 
> 
> I would like to take this opportunity to post my discord for fanfiction writers https://discord.gg/uQuHy4e  
> It is a server for fanfiction writers to come together and share their work, get feedback and generally just have a fun time making new friends and finding more fanfiction to love. 
> 
> And my own discord account blueskydye#6338 and tumblr https://blueskyedye.tumblr.com/ because I would love to get to know and give back to the community that has already given me so much. I love you all and hope you enjoy this chapter :)

  
  
I spent the night at Tweek’s, who stayed awake long enough to make sure I arrived safely. Token had messaged the whole group about what had happened, and now everyone was freaked out about what this meant for Freedom Pals. The Coon hadn’t been arrested, as he’d managed to escape the cops despite Mysterion basically throwing him at them. But now police had issued a warrant for his arrest and were seeking out other members of Freedom Pals for interrogation.  


Tweek was so anxious about the whole thing that he ended up violently twitching and making harsh noises through his teeth, things I’d not seen him do in years. I had to convince him to take his sleeping tablets just so he could rest. He hadn’t needed to use them in months.  


I didn’t sleep at all that night. Every time I tried, I could only think back to the restaurant, hear the screams, the shattering glass and see the Coon standing above it all. It made my stomach clench with both worry and guilt. Worried for my other teammates, and guilt because I knew I should have stopped the Coon when I had the chance. I shouldn’t have pissed him off the way I did, I should have kept my mouth shut and maybe then he wouldn’t have run ahead to prove a point.  


The next day at school Kyle called for an emergency meeting in the school basement. We’d discovered the year before that the doors were left unlocked most of the time and the janitor was barely ever in there. So long as we were quiet and didn’t leave doors open or lights on, no-one would even know we were there. I arrived with Craig, who was nice enough to never mention Kenny around me. Word had spread around that Kenny and Bebe were now a couple. I should have guessed from the blonde hair and all the red that it’d been her, but honestly, I hadn’t wanted to stick around long enough to find out. Staring at your crush kissing their partner is more than a bit creepy, after all.  


Still, if Kenny was going to end up with anyone, I was glad it was Bebe. I’d heard that she’d gotten out of a really bad relationship, that her ex had cheated on her and was also a controlling prick. She was a smart, reliable and very pretty girl who deserved far better. Yeah, I couldn’t deny the spike of envy that would hit me whenever I saw them together, but I would have to deal with that myself. It wasn’t their problem.  


“You’re very quiet today,” Craig said as we descended down the stairs.  


I blinked. “Yeah. Just tired.”  


Craig nodded. Even in the near darkness, I could see him frowning. “You know Cartman’s a fucking dumbass, right? This is all on him, not you.”  


“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “I feel like I goaded him into it.”  


“Fuck off with that! Cartman would have gone through with his shitty plan anyway.”  


His outburst was so sudden that it made me reel back. Craig kept walking, shoulders hunched and hands wedged firmly in his pockets.  


“We shouldn’t have to feel bad whenever Cartman fucks up,” Craig added as I followed after. “Don’t go getting guilt tripped. Besides, Stan and Kyle already beat you to it.”  


We found them both sitting in the boiler room, Stan cross-legged on the floor while Kyle sat in one of those plastic fold up chairs that looked as though it were about to snap in half at any moment. Tweek sat beside Stan, visibly shaking despite the heat in the room. Craig didn’t once look at either Stan or Kyle and immediately made his way over to Tweek. Stan and I tried to make small talk to fill the otherwise tense silence, interrupted only by Tweek’s sharp grunts and Craig’s soft words of encouragement meant only for Tweek.  


Eventually, the others showed up; Wendy, Clyde, Butters, Scott, Jimmy, and Timmy. I helped Clyde carry Timmy’s chair down into the room. The only people who weren’t going to show up were Cartman, for obvious reasons, and Token, who wasn’t in school at all, neither was Nicole.  


“Thanks for showing up everyone,” Kyle began, his fingers tense as he held onto his phone, “I know this was sudden but shit needs to be dealt with now.”  


“Yeah, the Freedom Pals are getting shafted because of Cartman’s fucking idiocy,” Craig said.  


Kyle narrowed his eyes. “Yes. Tactfully put, Craig.”  


“You’re welcome.”  


“Anyway, yeah, Craig’s right. For once. Cartman has gotten out of hand as of late. It began with not wanting Mysterion to be part of the group, then not wanting to be partnered up with anyone, then attacking teammates and now, this.”  


Kyle held out his phone so we could see the headlines for today. Almost all of them were dedicated to the “crazed, fat raccoon” ambushing a perfectly normal restaurant and questioning the Freedom Pal’s stability. Nothing new, not for me or Tweek anyway. We’d spent most of the night reading these articles and watching the news clips.  


“So,” Kyle pocketed his phone, “What the fuck happened, Bobbie?”  


My gut clenched, though I should have known I’d be questioned about this. I told them everything that had happened, including the papers Cartman hadn’t wanted us to see, and how Mysterion had tried getting him to talk but to no avail. When I was finished the room was eerily silent again.  


Kyle shook his head. “I can’t believe you just let Cartman go ahead like that.”  


“Kyle – “ Stan said.  


“No, Stan. He fucked up. They both did! What the fuck were you even doing out last night, it wasn’t your patrol.”  


“I asked him to as a favor,” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, “Because you were still hurt.”  


“And that’s an excuse? To let Cartman royally fuck us all over?”  


“Don’t, ah, pin Cartman’s bullshit on him!” Tweek snapped.  


“Neither of them did anything,” Clyde argued, “They heard what he was doing and didn’t stop him.”  


Cold filled my body. He was right. We heard him attack people and did nothing. I wanted to argue that we were searching for the drugs to destroy, but I knew that didn’t mean shit right now. What kind of excuse was that anyway?  


“I fucked up,” I said, my shoulders slumping and stomach twisting into knots.  


“Yeah, you did,” Kyle narrowed his eyes at me, “So until we get shit sorted, you’re suspended from the team.”  


I swallowed thickly, my stomach plummeting, and nodded. Butters, who had sat beside me, gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  


Craig stood. “That’s fucking stupid, Kyle. You’re punishing him for what Cartman did?”  


“I’m punishing him for not stopping Cartman when he should have. And besides, we don’t know if he’s telling the whole truth.”  


“Bullshit. You’re pissed off with Cartman and because he’s not here you’re going to take it out on Bobbie. Fuck you, Kyle.”  


“B-B-Bobbie still c-c-could have done mo-more,” Jimmy said.  


“Yeah, and he knows that,” Butters said, “But really fellas, we shouldn’t fight between ourselves.” He looked pointedly at Craig.  


“Get off the fence, Butters,” Craig retorted.  


“Craig, stop,” Both me and Tweek said at the same time.  


“I agree with Butters, fighting with each other won’t help,” Wendy said, “We all need to calm down and think this through rationally.”  


“I am being rational,” Kyle argued but Wendy shot him a look.  


“Look,” Stan said, “Let’s agree to this. Bobbie’s off active duty until we deal with Cartman and Mysterion and get their sides of the story.”  


“That’s basically what I said, Stan,” Kyle said, then sighed, “Fine. Can you agree to that, Bobbie?”  


“Yeah,” I said, “I can agree to that.”  


Craig was still bristling like an angry cat, but Tweek held his hand and he didn’t say anything more.  


 

* * *

 

 

I had to leave the room to let them talk without me there. It was still lunch time and I hadn’t eaten yet, but the thought of food made my stomach recoil, and so I went to my locker instead to get my books for the last few classes. Geography, history, and French, not my best but I could persevere.  


A headache was building behind my eyes and really, I would have loved to go home then and there, crawl under my bed and block out the world. But that wasn’t an option, and I couldn’t hide away from everything forever. I slammed my locker door shut and jumped at the sight of orange out of the corner of my eye.  


“Hey,” Kenny said.  


“Oh, hey,” I shoved my last book into my bag, “You scared me.”  


“Sorry,” he huffed out a laugh, “Thought you’d hear me.”  


“No, I’m deaf,” I replied. “And half-asleep.”  


“Yeah, I was going to say that you look exhausted,” Kenny leaned against the lockers and cocked his head to one side. “Bad night?”  


“Yeah, stayed up late doing homework,” I lied. “Sorry I didn’t catch up with you yesterday, I just – “  


“Nah. It’s okay. Stan already said you had way too much work to do. I should have asked earlier instead of just dumping it on you like that.”  


He gave me a lopsided grin and I couldn’t help but smile back. Warmth flooded my chest and for a split second, I could forget about what a shitshow both last night and today had been. The tension behind my eyes was already starting to drift away.  


“So, uh, how’s Bebe?” I asked.  


His smile dropped entirely, startling me. “Oh, yeah, she’s fine.”  


“Fine?”  


“You know,” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “We’re… It’s kinda complicated right now.”  


Complicated? I didn’t think brand new relationships could be complicated, but then again, I was far from an expert. It was then that I noticed how Kenny’s eyes were slightly puffy looking, as though he didn’t get much sleep either. Maybe he was worried about Bebe. “Do you want to talk about it?” I said gently.  


“No, it’s okay, you’ve got enough shit to deal with, right?” Kenny shrugged, “I mean, homework and tests, you know?”  


“Doesn’t mean I don’t have time to listen, Ken,” I said.  


Kenny glanced down at the ground with an almost faraway look in his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe there’s something you and I could talk about.” He met my gaze again. “Maybe later this week? Friday?”  


“Friday,” I said with a nod, “Let’s hang out at my house.”  


“Right. Friday,” Kenny patted my shoulder, and I couldn’t deny the nervous flutter in my stomach, “See you then, Bobbie.”  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for blood and violence in this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who commented on this story and gave kudos. You people are amazing and I love you very much. I wish you a happy new years and hope nothing but great things happen to every one of you this year :)

The next few days passed without incident. I spent most of my time trying to do schoolwork and any other activities that would take my mind off of Cartman, Kenny, and Mysterion. To make sure I couldn’t sneak out and do hero business anyway, my gear and equipment were taken from me. Only Tweek, Craig and Butters were speaking to me, Stan would offer me a polite nod in the hallways when we passed each other, but otherwise, that was it. Kyle refused to even look at me, and I couldn’t tell if that was because he was still furious with me or Cartman, who still hadn’t shown up to school. Kyle and Stan had tried calling to his house but his mom said he was sick. No-one else had heard from him at all.  
  


I’d thought about seeing him myself, but Craig told me it’d only make things worse. “Just keep your head down and it’ll all blow over,” he’d said.  
  


So, Friday night rolled in and my parents were getting ready to head out. Dad was working and Mom had a co-worker’s hen party to go to. She didn't usually get to go out on her own, so I could see the excitement in her eyes as she flounced from room to room, checking herself out in her new dress in every reflective surface. Dad rolled his eyes fondly but was nice enough not to say anything.  
  


“If you decide to go hang out at a friend’s, don’t stay out too late,” Dad said to me, “Your mom will need help getting back into the house.”  
  


“I won’t be drinking that much,” Mom swatted at his arm, “But yeah, be home before eleven. Or call one of us if you’re staying over.”  
  


I usually did, but I nodded anyway. “Have fun.”  
  


The house fell into an easy silence after they left, one I’d grown used to over the years. It used to bother me, but there were ways to get over it. Such as playing music from my phone so the house wouldn’t feel so large as I set about doing a few odd chores before Kenny came over. He’d told me that morning that he wouldn’t be able to arrive until after he dropped Karen off at a sleepover, so I wasn’t expecting him for another while.  
  


About thirty or so minutes had passed before my phone buzzed. Thinking it may have been Kenny telling me he was on his way, or possibly even Tweek or Craig, I opened up my phone and read the message.  
  


My stomach dropped.  
  


**[Cartman]:** _Dude I’m in serious fucking trouble and I need your help!_  
  


Cartman never messaged me for anything. He barely even spoke to me during school or our hero meetings. Maybe no-one else would answer his texts. Hastily I typed back.  
  


**[Bobbie]:** _What do you mean? What did you do?_  
  


**[Cartman]:** _Meet me downtown, I’ll tell you everything._  
  


**[Bobbie]:** _I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s happened._  
  


**[Cartman]:** _Mysterion’s hurt. We’ve been attacked, fucking help!_  
  


I froze. A very large part of me didn’t believe a word out of Cartman’s mouth, especially since the restaurant incident. But another part, a very, very small part, wondered what if he was serious this time. What if they were in real trouble? I felt cold all over, palms sweating thinking back to every time Mysterion stuck his neck out for me. What if this one time he needed help and I turned on him, after everything we went through? I bit my lip, glancing between my phone and my reflection in the window above the sink. Finally, I typed.  
  


**[Bobbie]:** _Fine, I’ll meet you. But if you’re lying, I will put you in the fucking ground myself._  
  


Cartman didn’t respond to that, and instead just sent me the directions. They were downtown. I quickly shot Kenny a text saying I had to head out to meet Cartman for a few minutes, then grabbed my coat and keys and threw myself out the door.  
  


 

South Park was unusually quiet for a Friday night. All I could hear was the crunch of snow underneath my boots and the distant roars of traffic. I chose to take the shortcut through the playground instead of taking the main street, as I didn’t really enjoy the idea of getting hit by a car. The swings creaked as they swayed gently in the breeze. It was mostly dark, with only a few street lamps lighting the way. I zipped my jacket up all the way and pushed my hands further down into my pockets to keep in as much heat as I could. Every so often I would check my phone in case Cartman messaged me again, but there was always nothing.  
  


Eventually, I reached downtown, where a few clubs and bars were open. Usually, there’d be at least one with a whole queue of people lining outside, but not tonight apparently. I passed by one bar where a small group of men were standing outside, smoking and talking among themselves.  
  


I didn’t expect for one of them to grab me by the hood and drag me back.   
 

“You’re out late,” One of the men said, gripping me by the throat and throwing me against the wall, hard enough for my head to smack against the brick. Pain ripped hot and fast down from the base of my skull to my spine, my vision blurring as the man’s fingers dug into my jaw and forced my head upwards. “If you make a sound, I’ll kill you.”  
  


There were five of them, all dressed in dark clothes and closing in on me. I couldn’t make out any faces, it was too dark, but I made myself watch each and every one, try and find something distinctive about him so that I could point him out later. If I lived, that is.  
  


The man who grabbed me smirked, his eyes cold and cutting. “Feisty thing, are you? Would love to see you try and – “  
  


I kicked, my foot connecting with the man’s knee hard enough for him to buckle only slightly before he drew his fist back and punched me in the face. There was a sickening crunch and a dizzying few seconds where I couldn’t tell if I was even standing or not. My face inflamed, blood rushing hot and fast from my nostrils and dripping off my chin. The man’s thick fingers returned to my jaw and I could feel his beady, black eyes boring into my head.  
  


“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he growled.  
  


I spat blood in his eye.  
  


The man grabbed me by the collar of my jacket and threw me onto the ground. I tasted metal in my mouth. Pain coursed through my body like aftershocks, blinding hot and ripping through my skin. I tried to move, tried to stand, only to feel the weight of someone’s foot pinning me down. They pressed into my chest, cut off my air. I thrashed, clawed at their leg, felt denim beneath my fingertips. Something cold and metallic struck me in the face. Another surge of pain erupted behind my eyes. I coughed up more blood.  
  


“Should’ve just shot him to begin with,” another voice said. Even over the roar of blood in my ears, I could hear the sharp click. “A corpse can’t fight back.”  
  


My arm lashed out, tried to knock the gun from his hand, only he grabbed my wrist and yanked it back before stomping on my elbow. It snapped, pain tore up my arm and I screamed as my arm dropped uselessly to my side.  
  


I can’t remember what I thought of in those last few seconds. Maybe I thought of my parents, how they’d arrive home and wonder where the hell I’d gone to, or my friends, and how I was never going to see any of them again. I couldn’t even remember what I’d last said to any of them. The boot pressed down harder, my ribs burning with the pressure, and I cried out. My vision was blurred with blood and tears, hot and stinging, but I made myself stare up at the man with the gun. If anything, I could make him remember me. The kid who made you look him in the eyes while you shot him. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower.  
  


He was blanketed in shadow, but I couldn’t mistake the cold glint of the gun in the dim light. “What a waste,” the man said, and his finger curled around the trigger.  
  


A resounding scream filled the space and it hadn’t come from me. The man with the gun pulled back, looking over his shoulder. I couldn’t see what he saw and instead stared up at the clouded skies above. What followed were the cracks of bones breaking, the clatter of weapons being dropped and male voices yelling and swearing. There was a bang and then nothing. Silence fell, and for a few seconds, I couldn’t even breathe.  
  


Another figure loomed over me. My chest seized and I shoved at them with my good arm, tried to push them off before they could hurt me again. A gloved hand caught my wrist.  
  


“Bobbie,” and that voice almost made me choke with relief, “It’s me.”  
  


Mysterion.  
  


I blinked through the blood and tears spilled free, a harsh sound ripping from my throat when he came into view and I could see his eyes and his face and it was Mysterion and he was okay.  
  


My muscles went slack, the fear slipping away until nothing was left. He gently guided me into sitting up.  
  


“You’re safe now, it’s going to be okay,” Mysterion said quietly.  
  


I threw my arm around him and held him tight, body shaking as I cried into the crook of his neck.  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and gave this fic kudos. You people are stars, absolute treasures, and I love and appreciate you so very much. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. :)

I don’t remember going to the hospital. I vaguely remember Mysterion saying I needed one, that I was bleeding heavily, and he wasn’t sure how bad most of my injuries were. But everything sounded fuzzy and I couldn’t focus. I stared up at the night sky, my entire body roaring with agony, as my eyes would slip closed every so often and Mysterion would have to shake me awake. The next thing I knew, I was in the back of an ambulance, a dark-skinned woman leaning over me and asking questions while she shined a light in my eyes. I think she asked for my name, but I could barely move my jaw.  


Everything is blurred after that. I was wheeled into the hospital, the fluorescent lights digging into my eyes and turning my stomach. Different people were talking to me but they were just smears of colour. They didn’t seem like people. I know I had to go in for surgery, that I needed stitches and to have my arm reset, but I can’t remember any of that.  


I woke up several hours later, alone, wearing a stiff patient’s gown and shivering underneath crisp, white sheets. My arm was in a cast and I had bandages wrapped firmly around my head, covering one eye. The taste of blood still lingered in my mouth and made me feel sick. I thought it’d go away, but nausea ripped into my stomach until I eventually crawled my way into the bathroom and was violently sick on both the floor and in the toilet. A nurse came to help me, I think she said something about strong painkillers and head trauma, but I couldn’t hear her properly over my own retching. I babbled about how sorry I was that I’d messed up the floor, that I hadn’t meant to, and she just shook her head as she helped change into clean clothes and then back into bed. She told me it was fine, get some sleep, it will all be fine, I was safe now.  


Mysterion’s voice echoed in my head, “You’re safe now, it’s going to be okay.” I thought about him even when I felt the hard press of the boot against my chest, the snap of my arm, the cold, metallic press of the gun to my head.  
  


_Should have shot him to begin with._  


_Should have shot him to begin with._  


_Should have shot him -_  


I leaned over and spat blood and bile on the floor.  


The next time I opened my eyes my parents were there. Dad’s eyes were red and puffy, his hands trembling as he gently took my good hand in his. It made me think of when I was little and he would take me for walks through forests or hike up a mountain, and that one time we got lost and had to call Mom to pick us up, except she couldn’t find us and then got herself lost too. We never went hiking again after that.  


Mom hadn’t bothered with makeup. Her skin was blotchy and drained of colour, and dark bags lined her eyes. She didn’t want to touch me, her hands hovering nearby as though convinced she’d break me if she did the slightest thing wrong. But her shoulders were rigid and her voice trembled and I knew she was pissed but trying so hard to hide it.  


She kept all her questions until the police arrived. She demanded they tell her everything they knew, and the poor cops could only blink at her and say nothing yet because so far, I was the only witness.  


The men were dead.  


Five dead men found surrounding me when the ambulance came.  


My chest seized and I must have fainted, blacked out or something because when I came to again my room was empty save for a woman detective. She wore a smart grey suit and kept her hair tied back in a tight bun. In her hands was a notebook and a pen and she wanted me to describe everything.  


I didn’t know where to begin.  


Cartman had sent me the text, but I hadn’t gone where he’d wanted to meet up. And I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to ambush another member of Freedom Pals seeing as how fucked he was already. I told the detective that I’d left my house to meet a friend, that I passed a bar and got pulled into an alley. Then… Fuck, I tried so hard to describe what happened. I could remember everything, but actually talking about it… My mouth felt like it’d been stuffed with cotton and the words were just lodged in my throat. Everything was there, but nothing wanted to come out.  


I hadn’t even noticed how badly I was trembling, or even that I was crying until the detective gently took hold of my hand and offered me a tissue from a packet she’d kept in her coat.  


“You’ve been through a lot,” she said, “And I know you need to rest, but my colleague needs to take photographs of your injuries. It won’t take long, we promise.”  


I didn’t think the photographs would be a huge deal. But having to take my gown off, to see all the bruises and cuts and the outline of where the boot pressed into me, it was like going through it all over again. Suddenly I could feel the cold gravelly pavement beneath my back, feel the man’s breath on my face as he told me he was going to kill me.  


_A corpse can’t fight back._  


The detectives were mercifully quick about it and finally, I was allowed to get back into my own clothes that my parents had brought in and get back into bed. My parents came in again, Mom carrying a tray of food that the nurses had prepared for me and Dad with some of my favourite books from home. Mostly art related, he’d deliberately avoided anything that involved violence.  


I didn’t want to eat, but I’d feel sicker if I had more painkillers with nothing in my stomach, so I tried swallowing down some soup and bread. Every swallow felt like nails raking down my throat and at one stage I almost gagged and spat up.  


It went on like this for several days. Every day, at least one of my parents would be in to see me, and had I been a little more lucid, I would have noticed that this was the most time I’d ever spent with either of them in a long while. None of my friends came to visit, which I imagined had more to do with nobody wanting to let them see me as I was, all busted and broken and bleeding.  
  


* * *

  


It was almost a week later before I was allowed to go home. I prescribed some pretty heavy pain medication and told to take it easy. No school for at least another week or so, and the police would be around to either ask more questions or give me updates on what was going on. Though I couldn’t imagine what updates they could give me. The men were dead. Mysterion had killed them.  


I hadn’t said anything about Mysterion being there. All I’d said was that I blacked out and woke up in the ambulance. So far, people believed me.  


“I’ll only be gone an hour,” Mom said as she tightened the sling on my arm. The bandages around my head were gone, but the stitches near my eye were still around, still sore and still fucking horrible to look at. Mom’s fingers ghosted over them, checking for any signs of infection like the nurses taught here, before applying a smaller bandage to keep them clean. “Just to refill your prescription and get stuff for dinner. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”  


“Yeah,” I said groggily.  


She frowned. “I could drop you off at a friend’s? Maybe Craig? Or Tweek? That nice Stanley boy?”  


My stomach jolted at the idea of letting any of them see me like this. I shook my head. “No. No, I’m fine, really, just tired.”  


Mom pushed some hair out of my face. “Okay, sweetheart. You go to bed and rest. I’ll be right back and we can cook up something special for dinner. Maybe pasta? Your favourite.”  


I forced a smile and nodded. She kissed my cheek and left to get her bag and coat. While she did that, my phone buzzed in my pocket. The sound alone sent a shot of dread through me, as though I was expecting every single call or text to be from Cartman telling me to go somewhere. It was stupid, I knew it was stupid, and so I forced myself to calm down by taking a few deep breaths and opened up my phone.  


The message wasn’t from Cartman. It was from Mysterion. He was in my room.  


This was the first time I’d heard from him since that night, and honestly, I wasn’t sure whether I was happy or nervous about him being in my house right now, seeing me the way I was now. Maybe he just wanted to check that I was all right, or talk about what happened that night… But honestly, I wasn’t sure how I could face him knowing he’d killed five people for me. I wasn’t sure if I should have been grateful, or relieved about that. Five people were dead. Five people were dead and it was my fault because I was so stupid as to go out alone at night on Cartman’s fucking orders.  


“Bobbins?” Mom’s hand touched my cheek and I jumped. “Honey, you’re so pale. You should go lie down.”  


“Y-yeah, okay. See you later, Mom.”  


She studied me for a few seconds, as though debating whether or not to leave me home alone. Finally, she slung her handbag over her shoulder. “Remember to lock the door after me.”  


Nodding again, I followed her to the front door and watched her head down the drive to her car before slowly closing the door and locking it.  


* * *

 

 

“Mystery Boy,” I said, shutting my door closed with my foot. “I was starting to miss you.”   


The corner of Mysterion’s mouth quirked up, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Really?”  


I smiled back, and it surprised me how easy it was. “Of course. My day’s not complete without you sassing me at some point.”  


He huffed out a laugh, glancing down shyly before meeting my eyes again. “You know how to flatter a guy.”  


“Learned from you, didn’t I?”  


“Yeah.”  


Despite the gentle teasing in his voice, I could tell by his tight shoulders and fidgeting hands that he was bothered by something. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out what.  


“Are you okay?” I asked, moving to sit next to him, the bed creaking under our weight.  


Mysterion made a small gesture with his hands, as though to say, “ _Would you be if you were in my place?_ ” Before he sighed and said, “No. Not really.”  


I placed my good hand on his shoulder. He glanced at it. “Do you want to talk about it?”  


He didn’t respond at first but didn’t shrug me off. “Sometimes I think back to that night and I remember you… How you looked… All that blood. I thought you’d already been shot. I thought you were dying.”  


I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m here. You saved me. We’re going to be okay.”  


“But I can’t stop seeing it.”  


My hand slid down the length of his arm until I found his own. He was trembling. “We’re going to be okay,” I repeated softly. I didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know how else to comfort him. I wouldn’t ever know what he’d gone through, seeing someone I cared about beaten and bleeding like that, or… Killing the people who hurt them. I couldn’t blame him for being fucked up about it, and it broke my heart to see him like this. I was already missing the teasing smile he wore so well. “I’m here now because of you.”  


He turned sharply, and for a split second I thought I’d fucked up, but his hands gently cupped my face and our eyes met. His were red and puffy, wet with unshed tears and his jaw shook.  


“I just want to see you,” he said, answering my unsaid question. He blinked and a few tears spilled free. I brushed them aside with my thumb and he took a shuddering breath. “You scare the shit out of me sometimes,” he added, then forced a chuckle, trying to ease the tension building between us.  


Remembering what he’d said that night the week before, I let my hand curl under his jaw. “Hopefully in the best way.”  


He leaned in and kissed me. His lips were chapped and bloodied, probably from being bitten, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I grabbed onto the front of his suit with my good hand and dragged him closer, felt how his breath hitched against my lips and his arms dropped to curl around my middle. We fell back against my bed and his weight was a comforting warmth on top of me. He was careful not to put too much pressure on me, especially on my bad arm, but his hands still wandered to feel along my sides, each touch sending sparks to my nerves. We didn’t rush it, we moved slowly and deliberately, savoring the feel and warmth of the other and let everything else slip away. The soft sounds of our lips meeting were all I could hear, Mysterion’s heat all I could feel until eventually we parted and reality came rushing back.  


I’d just kissed Mysterion, and what surprised me more was the fact that I liked it. Staring up into his eyes I couldn’t feel anything else but content. The stress, the aches, the worries, the guilt, they all drifted away into nothing.  


Mysterion cupped my face again, his thumb ghosting over the corner of my lip. “God, Bobbie. I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”  


Heat rose in my face and I hadn’t a clever response for that. I ducked my head shyly but Mysterion gently coaxed me into looking back up.  


“It was worth the wait.”  


“God, you’re a terrible flirt,” I said, but I was smiling too.  


“Only for you,” he said softly, eyes heavy-lidded and tender. Shivers shot up my back and I moved to kiss him again. He moved his head away. “But I can’t…”  


My heart dropped but I understood. Maybe he was too overwhelmed after all the shit that happened.  


“No… It’s not you,” Mysterion said, splaying his hand across my chest before flinching back as though he’d been burned. He stood from the bed and for a second, I thought he was going to leave through the window. He glanced at it like he wanted to, but then stopped and took a deep breath.  


“I want to show you something,” Mysterion said.  


“Show me what?” But he was already pushing his hood back. Underneath the hood was light blond hair, choppy and short yet still so soft looking. His hands tugged down his mask, slowly revealing his face. High cheekbones, a prominent nose, freckles, and two very bright blue eyes….  


Kenny. Kenny was Mysterion.  


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, a huge thanks to everyone who commented and gave kudos on this fic. You are all so precious to me and I greatly appreciate your support! 
> 
> A warning for this chapter; This one deals heavily with Bobbie suffering from PTSD and having negative, self-hating thoughts. Also, homophobic slurs are used. If there are any other triggers I should be aware of, please tell me about them. The fic does need its tags updated and I will get to that shortly. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

“Bobbie?” Kenny dropped the gravelly tone he’d used for Mysterion and instead, sounded so small and vulnerable. “Say something?”  
  


But I didn’t know what to say. I just blinked and covered my mouth with my hand. I’d just kissed Mysterion. Mysterion who was Kenny, who had a girlfriend. And I was nothing more than a stupid fucking homewrecker.  
  


“I wanted to tell you…” Kenny continued, voice breaking off.  
  


The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much sense it’d made. And the more stupid I felt about it all. I wanted to curl up into a tight ball and die in some corner, away from everyone else and Kenny’s sad fucking eyes.  
  


“Why?” I finally asked. “Why didn’t you just say something?”  
  


“I can’t let anyone know who Mysterion really is,” Kenny said, “With my powers, the government would hunt me down and do God knows what to me. I couldn’t trust anyone to keep this shit secret, not even my best friends.”  
  


I shook my head. “What about Bebe? Your girlfriend?”  
  


“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re only pretending to date so her ex will leave her alone.”  
  


A cutting part of me wanted to snap that’d he’d lied before, so what if he was lying now? But the words lodged themselves in my throat and refused to budge. I sat there silently, fist clenching then unclenching the duvet, not able to meet Kenny’s eyes. He stood there, watching me, his face unreadable before he kneeled in front of me and held my clenched hand in his warm one.  
  


“I should have told you sooner, I know. And I want to tell you everything.”  
  


“I _did_ tell you everything!” I snapped, startling the both of us, “I told you so much and you just sat there and – “  
  


Tears slipped down my face but I didn’t care enough to wipe them away.  
  


“I tried, Bobbie. I wanted to tell you the truth but shit kept coming up and then Friday…”  
  


“Stop,” I said weakly, already feeling a spike of cold up my back. Fuck, how long was I going to be like this? A scared little bitch freaked out by a fucking day of the week.  
  


“Sorry,” Kenny said quietly, “Do you want me to leave?”  
  


I swallowed thickly, glancing between him and my feet. Some part of me wanted to say yes, to kick and scream and tell him to get the fuck out and leave me the hell alone. But another wanted him to smile at me again and tell me everything was going to be all right. Pain pulsed behind my eyes and my vision blurred for a second, and not just from the tears. I hadn’t even realized I’d tilted forward until Kenny’s hands were pushing me back onto the bed.  
  


“You’re bleeding!” he said.  
  


Was I? I couldn’t feel it. Blinking owlishly, I vaguely pointed over towards my desk. Without another word, Kenny rushed over to find the spare bandages I kept in a drawer. The room spun, my stomach rolling with it before violently lurching. I gagged, retched, felt Kenny’s hands back on me and gently turn me on my side so I wouldn’t choke. He didn’t say anything as he removed the bandage and wiped the blood away with a tissue to see the damage.  
  


“It’s not too bad,” his voice was soft, “You didn’t pop a stitch.”  
  


This wasn’t the first time he’d had to patch me up after I did something stupid. As he applied the new bandage I thought back to when I’d been stabbed in the leg, how Mysterion… Kenny had insisted he’d be the one to finish what Tweek started, how he’d wanted to repay me for the food I’d given his sister, how Mysterion got flirtier when Kenny knew I’d seen him and Bebe but still gave me enough space to heal, how Mysterion knew where to go to find me because I’d told Kenny. I was a complete fucking idiot for never seeing it.  
  


Kenny pulled away, his hands dropping by his sides. “I can still go if you want me to.”  
  


“I don’t.”  
  


We both startled at that. I don’t think I meant to say anything, but it slipped out anyway.  
  


I took a deep, shuddering breath, then moved to sit up. “I just… I don’t want to be alone right now. As stupid as that sounds.”  
  


His arm wrapped around my shoulders, careful to avoid jostling my bad arm. My jaw trembled and I buried my face into the crook of his neck, felt his heat and remembered the alleyway, how he’d held me while I cried and how strongly he smelled of blood. Or maybe that had been me.  
  


“It doesn’t,” Kenny said firmly, “You’ve been through some shit.”  
  


So had he, yet I didn’t hear him whining about it. Maybe Cartman had been right, and there wasn’t any point to me being part of the team when I was the weakest link. I’d almost died because of my own stupidity and gullibility, and now here I was, a shaking, broken, pathetic piece of shit, as fragile as glass.  
  


“I’m sorry,” Kenny whispered, breaking my train of thought, “I wish I’d said something sooner. Wish I’d told you how I felt years ago. But I was scared.”  
  


“Of what?” I asked.  
  


“Disappointing you. I don’t have a lot to offer.” He paused for a moment to intertwine our fingers. “And I think you deserve the world.”  
  


 “You could never disappoint me.” I squeezed his hand, felt the cool material of his glove against my skin, and for a split second, I could believe that none of this shit had happened. That I was fine, no broken arm, no fucked up eye, no nightmares that kept me up all hours, no fear of being cornered again and no pretend relationships, just me and Kenny enjoying a quiet moment together.  
  


“I remember when we were kids, you used to bring extra food for me and Karen. And I hated you for it because I thought you looked down on us like we were things to be pitied, not real people, you know? I remember knocking a lunch out of your hand.”  
  


Did that actually happen? I blinked as the memory rushed back, and I could see myself standing in the hallway with the sandwiches I’d made that morning thrown at my feet.  
  


“We’re not your charity case!” Kenny had snapped. This was when I wouldn’t talk at all, so instead of answering him, I just stared at the ground. Kenny waited for me to say something, but when it became clear that I wouldn’t, he turned on his heel and stormed off. But I wasn’t deterred, and so the next day I brought them another lunch and handed it to Karen. I just didn’t want them to go hungry and didn’t understand why Kenny got so angry about it.  
  


“I forgot about that,” I said.  
  


“I didn’t. I always felt bad about it. You only wanted to help.”  
  


“It’s okay, I forgave you – “  
  


Kenny breathed out a little laugh. “I know. It was the first thing you ever said to me.”  
  


Downstairs the front door opened and my mom called up, letting me know she was home and would cook dinner. Kenny’s hand slipped from mine and he stood from the bed.  
  


“I’ll let you eat,” he said as he began pulling his mask back on. It was a little unnerving seeing the mask back in place now that I knew who was under it; The guy I liked, who miraculously liked me back but had a fake girlfriend and I didn’t know what to think about any of it.  
  


“Hey,” I began nervously as I stood too, “If you’re serious about the fake relationship with Bebe… What happens now?”  
  


“I tell her I can’t do it anymore,” Kenny said with a shrug, “It was a fucking stupid idea. But if her ex continues to be a prick, I’ll kick his ass.”  
  


I huffed out a laugh. “It’s that simple?”  
  


“It can be, if I just believe,” Kenny smiled, “And… You know… I’d like to take you out sometime if that’s okay with you.”  
  


My heartbeat was so hard I could feel it in my throat. Glancing between him and the ground, I was unsure of what to say, what to think. I felt a little like I did when I was a kid, lost and voiceless. On one hand, I liked Kenny, really liked him, and wanted to kiss him again and maybe be his boyfriend… But on the other, I worried if I was too broken to be in a relationship. I was afraid to fall asleep and freaked if I even remembered Friday, and Kenny shouldn’t have had to deal with that. “Would you let me think about it?”  
  


“Yeah. ‘Course.” Kenny gave me a half smile, tugging his hood up. “I’ll see you later, Bobbie.”  
  


I watched him leave through the window, his cape billowing behind him as he leaped across to grab the tree outside. The sky was already bleeding into deep shades of oranges and purples, the wind bitter against my skin. I tugged my jacket closer as Kenny gave me a two-finger salute and jumped into the neighbor’s garden.  
  


 

* * *

  
  


School was going to be a bitch. I just knew it before I’d even gotten to the front door. Nausea had a firm hold on my stomach and I wanted nothing more than to curl up into a tight ball and die somewhere, far away from everyone. But my wants didn’t matter, and so I found myself nearing my first class and a cold sweat trickling down my back. I wasn’t even too sure what I was so nervous about. It wasn’t like I was the new kid again, desperate for other kids’ approval and scared of fucking up in front of them.  
  


_“Get a grip,”_ I chanted in my head as I made myself pull the door handle and step inside.  
  


Inside other students were chatting among themselves as the teacher hadn’t arrived yet and no-one was paying me any mind. For a second, I felt at ease, like I could slip inside and be ignored and not have to deal with any questions or stares or anything. But that hope was short lived when I heard an all too familiar voice pipe up.  
  


“Robert! You’re back from the hospital!” Cartman was sitting in the front row, a smug grin plastered across his face. “We were all so worried, we’d heard some thugs jumped you and wow, you look like shit.”  
  


I stood there, eyes wide, a sudden rush of cold hitting me. All at once everything became blurry as I felt every head turn to look at me. This wasn’t what I wanted, I didn’t want to be looked at, I didn’t want to be _watched_. If anyone said anything, I couldn’t hear them over the rush of blood in my ears. Apparently, I slammed the door closed, but I don’t remember doing that. I do, however, remember running to the nearest bathroom and throwing up in a stall. Afterward, I slumped down and rested my head in my good hand and tried to even out my breathing as my therapist taught me.  
  


The door opened and careful footsteps approached me. At first, I thought it was a teacher, and I prepared myself for a scolding. But instead of banging on my door, there was just a gentle tap.  
  


“Hey, Bobbie, it’s, ah, me,” Tweek said from behind the stall door. I drew my legs up closer to my chest.  
  


“I kind of puked in here,” I said.  
  


“Yeah, I know.” Tweek’s voice was gentle, as though he were trying to reassure an injured animal.  
  


“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do any of that. I don’t know why I – “  
  


“It’s okay. We, ngh, know you didn’t.”  
  


The door opened again and a fresh wave of dread hit me. I didn’t want to become some grand fucking spectacle for people to gawk at. Knots twisted inside me and I felt like being sick all over again.  
  


“Is he okay?” I closed my eyes and let my head tilt back at the sound of Kenny’s voice, the knots slowly uncoiling. He’d already seen me at my shittiest, so this wouldn’t be new.  
  


“I think so. He’s, ah, shaken though.”  
  


“Bobbie? Do you want to go to the nurse?”  
  


“No,” I said, “I feel fine, I’m just… I don’t know, I freaked a little. But, I’m fine.”  
  


They were both quiet for a minute like neither of them believed me. I stood, my legs shaking, and flushed the toilet before stepping out of the stall.  
  


“You’re so pale,” Tweek said, frowning, “You really should go home, dude.”  
  


“I can’t, I’ve already missed too many days,” I took out my water bottle and chugged almost half of it, desperate to get the taste of sick out of my mouth. “Besides, I can’t hide from everything forever.”  
  


Even though that was exactly what I wanted to do.  
  


The door suddenly swung open and Cartman strode in, hands shoved in his pockets. “Robert, why’d you run off like that? We only wanted to say hi after you got be-AGH! “  
  


I chucked the water bottle straight at his face, ribs tightening with every strained breath I took. “Keep the fuck away from me Cartman!” I spat.  
  


“Calm down, Bobbie,” Tweek said, placing his hand on my good shoulder.  
  


“What the fuck’s gotten into you, you fucking spastic?!” Cartman snarled. “I didn’t even fucking do anything to you.”  
  


“Leave him alone, Eric,” Kenny said, stepping between us and Cartman, “He’s not able to deal with your bullshit today.”  
  


“Kenny, get out of here with your useless faggotry. I only wanted to talk to Robert but he’s being a basket case.”  
  


“Well, he clearly doesn’t want to talk to you. So, piss off.”  
  


Cartman opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but was interrupted when Kyle and Stan appeared in the doorway.  
  


“The two of you knock it off, right now!” Kyle snapped.  
  


“Don’t tell me what to fucking do, Kyle!” Cartman shouted.  
  


All the noise rammed into me like a train. Hot pressure pushed against my eyes and ears and made me feel like my head was about to explode. I wanted to cover my ears with my hands but I couldn’t do that. Something crawled up inside my chest and raked its nails through my ribs, before clutching and pulling, and I thought I was going to die. Breathing suddenly became the hardest thing to do. I couldn’t take any of it anymore and pushed past everyone to get out into the hall, where I ran again.  
  


Because running was the easiest thing to do.  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little delayed because I was sick, then family stuff came up and writer's block decided to make itself known. Ugh. I hope you enjoy this next chapter, it's pretty dialogue heavy but I felt Kenny and Bobbie really needed to talk about things, and can I also show you guys some incredible artwork by the lovely spookykingarthur on tumblr? http://spookykingarthur.tumblr.com/image/182020209737
> 
> I feel so grateful for all the amazing, friendships, artwork and support given to me for this fic. I love you all very much and appreciate every comment and kudos! Thank you all!

 

 

I ended up on the roof, knees tucked up to my chin and head held down, trying to steady my breathing. The wind bit into my body with every gust and I’d forgotten my coat downstairs, so I only had my thin hoodie to stave off the cold, but honestly, it was ten times better than being trapped inside where the heat and the noise tore strips from me.  
  


But I was being stupid. I knew I was being stupid. There were other people that had worse problems than I did and still got up and did things. I was nothing more than a coward, a fuck up, acting like a fucking child hiding away from the things that scared me. It didn’t matter though, it didn’t matter what I said to myself, what I thought, because I still sat there and I still cried and I still felt like shit.  
  


I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. All I knew was that eventually I couldn’t cry anymore and just coughed out dry, tearless sobs. My legs grew numb, and I was half tempted to just forget about them and let the pins and needles grow, but in the end, I heaved myself up with a sigh and walked around to get the blood flowing.  
  


The bell rang for the end of the first class, its shrill sound ripping my eardrums. A spike of pain shot down my spine and my legs wavered. My good arm shot out to grip the iron railings that lined the roof.  
  


“Hey.”  
  


I tore my head up, seeing Kenny standing a little bit away from me. He was far enough to give me space but close enough that I could hear him over the howling wind.  
  


“Hey,” I repeated, not knowing what else to say.  
  


Kenny shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “People are asking about you. Want to know where you are. If you’re okay.”  
  


Guilt wormed into my stomach. I was causing so much unnecessary bullshit. _Should have shot him sooner_. “I’m sorry.”  
  


“Don’t be,” Kenny said, “Don’t be sorry for this. We should apologize for what happened back there.”  
  


“I could’ve just ignored Cartman. Instead, I made a huge fucking scene out of nothing.”  
  


“You can’t help how you react to things right now,” Kenny took a few steps closer, “And Cartman knew what he was doing. He can pretend to be a massive dumbass all he wants, but the reality is; he’s a manipulative, conniving snake and he knows exactly what to do to get a reaction out of people.”  
  


And he’d played me like a fucking fiddle. My grip tightened on the rail, the rust flaking off onto my hand, staining it deep reds and browns.  
  


“It doesn’t matter,” I said, “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”  
  


I’d only slept in short bursts the night before, too afraid to slip into a deep sleep because I knew what waited for me. The memories were far more frequent in my dreams, the voices louder, clearer. Sometimes I still felt the man’s breath on my face.  
  


“I know,” Kenny said gently. He took another step closer. I didn’t budge. His hand fell on my shoulder, and though I stiffened, I didn’t shake him off either. “I know it hurts, Bobbie. I know you want to forget.”  
  


“But _he_ doesn’t,” I said, “It wasn’t enough that he made me go out there but now he wants to dig into me and rip everything out and I want him to _fuck off_.”  
  


Kenny froze. “What do you mean he made you go out?”  
  


I dug into my pocket and fished out my phone, scrolling through the messages until I found Cartman’s text. Kenny took it from me carefully, then went still.  
  


“He used me as a lure,” Kenny said quietly. “That smug piece of shit – “  
  


“I was stupid. I should have called you, or someone else, done something other than blindly walk into – “  
  


“Yeah, maybe. But stop defending Cartman! If he was behind the attack then he almost fucking killed you!”  
  


It was startling to hear how easily Kenny could slip into his Mysterion voice, and again I wondered how the hell I never caught it before. I hadn’t even noticed I tensed up until Kenny’s face fell and he let go of my arm.  
  


“I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. This isn’t your fault, it’s just this… If you died because of that sadistic motherfucker I don’t know what I’d do.”  
  


I swallowed thickly. “You really think Cartman would plan this? Hire some guys to kill someone he didn't like?”  
  


“He’s done worse.”  
  


That made my blood run cold.  
  


“But you know what’s sad?” Kenny continued, “I thought he’d changed. Becoming the Coon, joining the Freedom Pals, I thought he was improving, bit by bit. He didn’t seem to be nearly as much of a dick anymore. But then he accidentally hurt Kyle and it’s just all gone downhill from there.”  
  


“But why would he want to hurt me? We both got shafted for what happened that night, it wasn’t just him.”  
  


“That’s what I’ve been thinking about too. Cartman is capable of hurting someone just because he feels like it, but usually, there’s a motive. Sometimes they’re incredibly fucking dumb and childish, but in this case, I can’t think of any reason why he’d target you. Mysterion… Well, I would be a better one.”  
  


“You nearly broke his arm once for trying to unmask you,” I said, “You’re too dangerous to piss off, and probably a lot harder to overpower. So, he chose the weakest link.”  
  


Kenny’s hand found mine and he squeezed reassuringly. “You’re not the weakest link.”  
  


Despite our cold hands, heat soared up my chest and my lips twitched in a smile. And for a second, I was reminded of when we were kids and that day Kenny stood up to the fourth graders for me. He’d split his knuckles and blood dripped down his fingers, but I’d clasped his hand tight as he led us into the school.   
  


“You’ve been a great friend, Ken. You, Tweek, Craig, Stan, you’ve all been there for me.” I swallowed, tried to think of something, anything that could properly sum up how much they meant to me, how much _he_ meant to me, but all the words lodged in my throat and refused to budge.  
  


“Yeah, I like to think I’m pretty great,” Kenny said. “I think you’re pretty great too.”  
  


I couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out. “Smooth.”  
  


Kenny nudged me with his elbow. “See? There’s my Bobbie.”  
  


The bell rang for the end of second class, but the sound didn’t drill into my head as it had before. Kenny and I stood at the railings, still holding each other’s hands and watched the steady hum of life in South Park.  
  


“You can go back to class if you want. I don’t want you to get in trouble for skipping,” I said.  
  


“Nah, I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t want to leave you up here on your own.”  
  


“Such a gentleman.”  
  


“I was hoping you’d notice.”  
  


“It’s nice to see you two finally getting your shit together.”  
  


Kenny and I both jumped at Craig’s voice and pulled apart as though we’d been stung. Craig arched an eyebrow at us.  
  


“Jesus fucking Christ, Craig. Tweek needs to put a goddamn bell on you,” Kenny said. Despite his teasing tone, I saw how he balled his fists and clenched his jaw. “How long have you been standing there?”  
  


Craig gave a half shrug. “Long enough.”  
  


My eyes darted between Craig and Kenny, my own chest tightening. I could only hope to God Craig was just teasing us about the flirting and didn’t actually overhear anything about Kenny being Mysterion.  
  


“Yeah, yeah, very cute, Craig,” Kenny said.  
  


Craig flipped Kenny off with his usual stony expression before turning to me. “You all right? Tweek said you puked and then ran off.”  
  


“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got overwhelmed, that’s all.”  
  


“Okay. We already told the teachers you had a panic attack and that someone was with you,” he glanced pointedly at Kenny.  
  


“Thanks,” I said, “You’re too good to me.”  
  


“I know. I’m a fucking saint.”  
  


“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but you’re certainly a nice enough friend.”  
  


Craig huffed out a laugh and flipped me off, before turning on his heel and leaving through the door that led downstairs.  
  


Kenny ran a hand through his hair. “Well, we may have more shit to deal with now.”  
  



End file.
